










































/ 


/ 


/ 


r *. - » .-. . 







^ '7 ■ ■•.. ■yvMi • i'-'’'' ■i^-T'S'fi • 

\--\ ’ ", • t^BM ' i’ ■.. . . •* i._v •?>' 

• / ' y if ‘ i% ‘ ^ ■ • ^ J 

• *• \ , 1.^ i ■- .' •^ • *' t . ,^ ' • ; ' 

• ■* ■ _ . ’ % . • 4 ' ■ • • • I . i " ' . . ■.* » f « ». 



•» 5 ' « < v .^' > 

‘jc( ' isrj - ' 


> 0 . '. Vv .>. 


•■. f 


V .; ^ ;,. ■.-.' il’rfe 


♦ • ' • « “ - V , ' 


« • J - ‘ ^ ^ - Writ ' '■ V 

r >'^ . V ■ r >.' 

• ■•' .* ■■ .^ 


■' ’ ■<' ‘"^V’ 

• . • . I 






. r T : 7 , 




' t * . •> ' I •* 

- > •• V %BS 
• - *• *4 •t'liVi? 
. ‘ w ’ r ’ : *> . 7 .V # 

.1 •, 


•• V ;•■ fsrgjo 
- 

; . ''vV H 

'V /,='•-■- 


« 

V.t 






' - ' V . . ■•, , '■ ’ r . 5 ’' ' - ■ C”*' 

V -wv- 

.' • . • :• '• . « '. ^ < ■ s 


*t V /* . 


• -*« 


•- .T 




/. f-.-i' 


' ■ .'. - 


V’' 


j ' ■ 


. J 


• ^ . ’ .' 1 
- - ■. 


V ' V 


• ;• -v V^.i 

•.•■» - w -:’ '• 





; ■ ' ♦'• 





»• ; . < ' 


•-' • •• ■ - 


I ■, \ 


* < 


1 -V '♦• • 


’ r^‘ 


.« 


<• » 


^ 


'r-'^ . 


iC 


I < 


.-..f 


• I 




f • * *.; / < \ '} f'smt , •.* 

- ^ W -y \V !> .v; I . 



' •'% •.'• .■ r . . ^... ■ >? ■ . • •. ' v :^' 

.' V:'^ ' ■ y .r ^- ■ 



. V. •"-. 







» 

< 






$ 


I 


K I 


/ 

- / 






• J 







1 






A MODERN ESTHER 
AND OTHER STORIES 
FOR JEWISH CHILDREN 








i'-l 


-f n' 








•x> 


5'^ 


>♦ 


it * ♦, 


'n r-.v. 


J V 5 






':*k 




-4^ 


e: 


<r 




& 


H 




• 1 4 


r • 




J* > 






•A- 




f ' 


Mr Z 


*• * \*’ 


y. • 


► i 






/f.s 


i 


* >• 






^>1 




Vi 


tVl f 


U-I^ . ► 


I' 


1>t'’ 


I >’ 


'"fc , f. 


V.1 


fl>' 


r • 


» ♦ 


A;> 




* ‘i*->'' > 












‘M 


ii> 


C * 


W] 


.r* / 




4 




*4 


L‘fci,.»J*’ . ♦*»' 


.ilr 


r- 




4 % 




A > 




V 


?i: 


f), • ' 


-^.t 


r It 


- 4 :' 










’» , 


it 


>- > 














»w * » 


.%A 


s 


/ 'T 


;|S « *-• 

I 


l» 










< 4*' 


•4( 




> 4 








;i V 


•'4f^ *■■ 




ri 


./fr’ 


* 4 


e .4 






y'* 




'^iml 


Ct 




.11 


% 1 


i I 

\ m * A' 


V 






i/ 


•> 






VI 


* 


v’flt 




< / 


y^i 










a 


^.. I 


V 


A 


*. vV 


4 .A 




iVs 




< . 




't 


.•' V' •• 


crif* ^ 


'f . 


A.vr' 


S'' 


»v 


re 


r-’ / 


k' 






.'■ : 


k '.- r '-‘ty ’* 


kj.. ':t.^il.. 


.n», 


T %,'. f- ■’•*• 


iW 1^ 


■;i 


-^1 


»IAi 




l!r*V' 


,•-?* 


rf' 


a 




^ 0, . ** 


'r= '- j ' ' 


t 


^ . 'e 

Vr.r^,. . 

^?^ • *' 


aiiSs 




^ : 




f 41 


t^\ 


4 . 


r 




V-I 


■!r - .^1 


Jt T 






r^ 


.tr 


!:i^ v 4 h) 




'..rJ « 

ik 


L«'- : i 


'< •.*. 


'I . I 


■ .-d 


^ f:« 






A MODERN ESTHER 


AND OTHER STORIES 


JEWISH CHILDREN 




EMILY GOLDSMITH GERSON | 




ILLUSTRATED BY 


C. T. FURMAN 


PHILADELPHIA 
JULIUS H. GREENSTONE 
1906 


Ca^ 


Copyrighted 1906 
By Julius H. Greenstone 


Published March, 1906 


Received from 
Copyright Office^ 
MAR t 



Press or 

The New Era Printinc Compahv, 
Lancaster, P<l 


DEDICATED TO 

THE MEMORY OF 


MY FATHER 





CONTENTS. 


1. A MODERN ESTHER 9 

2. THE LUCK OF THE COHENS 23 

3. WORDS OF LOVE 31 

4. THE TWINS 41 

5. HOW IT CAME ABOUT 51 

I. The Invention 53 

II. The Adoption 61 

HI. The Reunion 73 

6. CANDLE LIGHTS 83 

7. MAY’S GARDEN 95 

8. RECONCILIATION 103 

9. OBEDIENCE m 

10. HOME AGAIN 123 

11. THEBANDOFMORDECAIS 133 

12. MOTHER’S BIRTHDAY 141 

13. SAM’S AND MIRIAM’S SUCCAH 15 1 

14. ONE KOL NIDRE NIGHT 161 

Two Holiday Plays. 

15. A HAPPY PURIM 175 

16. A MERRY HANUCCA 195 

7 





A MODERN ESTHER 


O 


‘r 


ft - '> - I 








:■ !» " 

^ * A .w- . ^ 




V>: 




5 |i . IP ■ 

: ». '■ : ',» ■ 

I'v. — ‘ 

’ ^ ' ‘ 'v, 

i- j 5->*- J 

■ • * . " • , 

'i', i^;p. 

) MHl^T .»#r, ■■- 


•s 




i 




I 


~ • » » 


V >’ 




Jf "> - ■* 


m 




IK* K 

^ L. 


i'VJL 


J n 


*r' 


ft 


j,^ 

• ,^* 


r . ^ 










.> 4 








A MODERN ESTHER. 


HE members of Rabbi Josevitch’s con- 
gregation entered the little synagogue 

in the town of M , in Russia, and 

took their seats one Purim morning. It 
was too early for the services, so the women sat 
behind the lattice work in the balcony, and occupied 
their time whispering about the latest and all- 
absorbing topic. 

“ They say the rabbi is overwhelmed with joy,” 
said one. 

“ And why should he not be ? A baby is always 
a blessing; but when it is born on Yom-tov it is 
doubly so,” answered a second. 

“What a comfort a daughter will be to dame 
Josevitch,” said another. 

“ She will be too proud to look at us now. She 
always held her head a little high for a rabbi’s 
wife.” 

“ She makes our dear rabbi a good wife, and that 
is all that is necessary,” retorted a personal friend 
of the mother under discussion, and further con- 
versation was cut short by the entrance of the rabbi, 
and the beginning of the Purim prayers. 



II 



12 


A MODERN ESTHER 


The rabbi’s face was radiant with happiness. 
Tormented and persecuted as the Jews of the town 
of M — were, the holidays were always a source 
of pleasure to them, especially the Feast of Purim, 
which was observed by alms-giving and merry- 
making. 

This year, Josevitch’s baby came to make their 
Purim doubly blessed. An Esther had come into 
their hearts ; and long and earnestly did the rabbi 
and his wife pray that she would be a queen among 
women. 

After the service many of the women crowded 
into the rabbi’s home to take a peep at the little 
new-comer, as it lay sleeping peacefully in its 
cradle. 

“ I prophesy great things for her,” said one of 
them. 

‘‘And why not, pray? She has the heritage of 
grace and beauty from her mother, and profound 
learning from the rabbi.” 

“ We will have to find a king for Queen Esther,” 
said another, but Dame Josevitch thought she de- 
tected a sneer in the speaker’s tone, and she spread 
her motherly arms over the cradle to protect her 
child. 

“Would to God I could keep her safe from the 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


13 


sneers of the world,” she thought. But Esther was 
destined to have her share, and suffer with her 
people and for her people. 

The chubby baby grew into a beautiful child, and 
as she tripped beside her parents, chatting and 
laughing, the other children of her age cast envious 
glances at her, and whispered: 

“She thinks because she is the rabbi’s daughter 
she is better than we.” 

“ Don’t you know that she was born on Purim, 
and was named after good Queen Esther? ” 

“ I’m tired of hearing the story of how our 
mothers went to see her after Schul that Purim, 
and how the Rabbi blessed her. She is welcome 
to her fine airs, I’m sure.” 

Esther, however, quite unconscious of the bitter 
feeling she had aroused among her classmates, 
gave them a dignified nod, and went her way. 

She had her mother’s retiring disposition. She 
was a child of nature, and loved to wander under 
the trees, and to gather flowers; to count the stars, 
and watch the moon. She would sit by the hour 
and listen to the chirp of the birds ; and the rivulet 
that coursed its way through the woods, which 
skirted the town, murmured fanciful things to her. 

To this woods her mother had frequently taken 


H 


A MODERN ESTHER 


her to spend the day when she was too young to go 
to school, and now Esther looked back on those 
days and longed to throw aside her books and run 
off to her favorite retreat. 

Rabbi Josevitch very often shook his wise head 
and tried argument: 

“ Esther, your report was not good this week. 
You must settle down to your studies.” Or — 
“Where were you this afternoon? Chasing but- 
ter-flies? You are getting too old for such non- 
sense, and will be the dunce of your class.” 

“ Father, the school-room is so close that I can 
scarcely breathe, and I love to be among the trees 
and flowers; but if it annoys you. I’ll try to mend 
my ways,” said Esther, kissing her dearly loved 
parent. 

Her beauty attracted attention, and many a 
nudge the non- Jewish children would give each 
other as she passed them, and the boys cried : 

“ There goes Esther, queen of the Jews. We’ll 
make it hot for her people when we are men.” 

One said; “Let’s begin right now.” 

“ I’ll protect her if she gives me a kiss,” said 
another. It was Ivan Belza, the Governor’s son. 

Esther was on her way from school when this 
conversation took place. She was frightened, and 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


15 


started to run at full speed. The boys laughed at 
Ivan’s discomfiture. 

“ Did you ever get fooled? ” they shouted. 

“ No, I never did, nor will I this time,” cried 
the Governor’s son, as he bounded after Esther. 
He quickly caught up with her, put his arms around 
her, and was about to kiss her, when she turned 
and struck him in the face, and then disappeared 
in the Ghetto. 

Ivan was dumbfounded at first, but when he 
heard the jeers of his companions he regained his 
senses and muttered as he walked away, “ She’ll 
have cause to remember this day, the beautiful 
Jewish witch.” 

Esther ran to her parents, and told them her 
troubles. 

The mother cried over her daughter. “ Have 
they started their persecutions on you already, my 
poor child! And you barely ten years old. We 
must guard you better.” 

The rabbi said, “ I will call on the Governor 
to-day. He is our friend, and he will surely be 
able to use his influence with his own son, although 
he has failed to put a stop to the assaults to which 
we Jews are subjected, alas, too frequently.” 

The Governor heard Rabbi Josevitch’s story 


i6 


A MODERN ESTHER 


and promised him and his people protection. He 
was a good man, and felt for the Jewish popula- 
tion of the town of M — , but was able to do little 
against their persecutors. 

The years passed away, and Esther was now a 
beautiful maiden of sixteen. 

The intolerance toward the Jews was growing 
worse all the time, and although the Governor 
threatened to punish anyone who dared perpetrate 
any outrage on them, the plots were kept secret, 
the Jews were whipped, and the Governor was 
unable to find the offenders. Rabbi Josevitch was 
sorely puzzled as to what council to give his people. 
His kind heart bled for his friends. 

It was the day before Purim and Dame Josevitch 
was preparing for the holiday meal. Esther took 
her book and walked to her favorite woods in the 
outskirts, and settled herself in a sheltered nook to 
enjoy an hour’s reading. 

In a few minutes the quiet of the place was dis- 
turbed by voices which seemed to be coming 
toward the very spot where Esther sat. She 
shrank behind a clump of trees to avoid detection. 
Very near her hiding place the men, there were 
four in all, paused to rest. She recognized Ivan 
Belza, as he said: 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


17 

“Now boys, make no mistake. To-night’s the 
time, and the synagogue is the place.” 

Esther listened breathlessly to what might 
follow. 

“It is her birthday, and the better the day the 
better the deed.” 

“ Her I Do you mean Queen Esther? Havn’t 
you forgiven her yet for the kiss she never gave 
you?” asked one of the men, laughing. 

“ She’ll pray to me for mercy, before I have 
done with her, the proud beauty ; and her race shall 
suffer for her.” 

“ Tell us again what we are to do,” said another. 

“You and Julius are to attack the rabbi, while 
the other dozen fellows rush upon the people as 
they leave their house of worship. We’ll let them 
pray first, and then they will see how their God 
protects them. I mean this to be the worst blow 
they have ever received.” 

“ What share do you take in this sport, or is the 
Governor’s son only to dictate?” questioned the 
burliest of the four. 

“ The girl shall be mine, and I dare say I’ll have 
my hands as full as all of you put together. But 
I swear ” 


Esther waited to hear no more. Pale and sick 


i8 


A MODERN ESTHER 


at heart, she noiselessly crept through the bushes, 
and gained the road to the town. Then she sped 
like a hare. But where? What should she do? 
Her father’s life was threatened, and her people I 
Of herself she thought last. She was young and 
strong, and could fight her own battles; but the 
old men and women in her father’s congregation — 
these she must save from this new outrage. The 
blood surged through her veins, as the question 
kept repeating itself, “ What can I do? Who can 
help me? ” Then like a flash her heart beat back 
the answer, “ Go to the Governor. He can save 
your people; he is your father’s friend and yours.” 

To the Governor she hastened, and related the 
conversation she had overheard in the woods, but 
avoided mentioning the name of Ivan, his son. 

The Governor, glad at last to be able to place 
his hands on the ruffians who molested the Jews, 
promised to be, with his soldiers, at the synagogue 
at the time mentioned. 

“ Go home, brave girl, and keep our secret, even 
from your parents, until this evening,” he said. 
“You are a veritable queen. Queen Esther, and 
your people owe their deliverance to you. Why 
is the synagogue open this evening? ” he asked. 

“ It is the beginning of our Purim festival, your 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


19 


Excellency,” sobbed Esther, her fears finding vent 
in tears. 

“ H’m, h’m, I see ! The villains meant to rob 



you of one of the few pleasures you Jews have,” 
he muttered. “ Never fear, my child. I’ll be at 
hand.” 

With a thankful heart, Esther bade the Gov- 
ernor farewell. 


20 


A MODERN ESTHER 


That evening, just as the reading of the Scroll of 
Esther was about coming to an end, a murmur was 
heard from without, a murmur which filled the 
hearts of the people within that small edifice, with 
fear and despair. They gazed at each other in 
blank dismay. 

“ Rabbi I Rabbi Josevitch, save us I ” they 
cried. 

“ God help us,” moaned the women as they held 
their children close to them. 

Esther who was by this time standing next to 
her father, said in a clear, calm voice,” Fear not, 
friends, the Governor is here to protect us.” 

At that moment the Governor’s form was seen 
in the door-way. With a wave of his hand he 
commanded his soldiers to arrest the ruffians, the 
Hamans, who meant harm to Israel. Then he 
advanced to Rabbi Josevitch, and taking his hand 
he said: “Go to your homes in peace, and God 
be with you.” 

The trembling lips of the frightened people 
tried to falter words of thanks which the Governor 
interrupted with : “ It is not I who have saved you, 
but this brave woman, Esther Josevitch, who is a 
queen among her people. She pled for you, and 
risked her own life for yours. Go home now and 
celebrate your Purim in a fitting manner.” 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


21 


When Ivan Belza, who had kept in the back- 
ground, saw his father advancing toward the 
synagogue followed by armed soldiers, he knew 
that he would fare no better than his associates if 
he were caught, so he slunk away and disappeared 
in the darkness. His words of that morning had 
been boastful, but he was a coward at heart, and 
knowing that his father, when he would learn that 
his son had led the disturbance, would be without 
mercy, he left the town that night, nor did he ever 
return to worry Esther, as he joined the army and 
was shortly after killed in a skirmish. 

Such a Purim as it was ! One never to be for- 
gotten by Rabbi Josevitch’s flock. Their fears be- 
ing dispelled, their prayers went up in thanksgiv- 
ing, and the name of Esther Josevitch was graven 
in the hearts and echoed by the lips of old and 
young in the Ghetto of the town of ‘M — . 







THE LUCK OF THE COHENS 


THE LUCK OF THE COHENS. 

HE Cohen family had never had much 
money to boast of ; but during the past 
year ill-luck had seemed to mark them 
for its own. On the day following the 
previous Pesach, a, to them, large sum of money, 
which had been laid aside for the purpose of pay- 
ing off a mortgage, and to secure which Mr. Cohen 
had stinted and labored for a long time, had dis- 
appeared. All search had proved unavailing, and 
it was at last concluded that the money must have 
been stolen. 

The payment of the above-mentioned money 
had been postponed for a year, during which time 
Mr. Cohen tried to make up the lost amount; but 
one trouble followed closely on another, and it had 
been impossible for him to save anything. 

Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, with despair in their 
hearts, wondered what they would do. They had 
four children, the oldest of whom, Bennie, was 
thirteen years of age, and then there were two 
little girls, Hannah and Sarah, and little Joseph, 
scarcely four. The past year had been one of 
misfortune, and what was once a fairly comfort- 

25 




26 


A MODERN ESTHER 


able, happy home, was now poor and gloomy. 
First, Mrs. Cohen was sick with a fever, and all 
the earnings of the good husband went for doctors 
and drugs. Scarcely was she better when Mr. 
Cohen fell and broke his arm. He was a house- 
painter by trade, and this accident caused a cessa- 
tion in his work for weeks. During this time 
Bennie and Hannah worked at odd jobs to assist 
their parents, and in this way the wolf was kept 
from the door ; but many a time all the inmates of 
that little home suffered from cold and hunger. 
Through all these and many more privations Mr. 
and Mrs. Cohen were firm in their faith in God. 
They turned to Him in their troubles, and fer- 
vently prayed for the time when He would see fit 
to relieve them of their many and severe trials. 
They thanked Him for blessing them with such 
good children, and prayed for the safety and 
health of these four little ones. They religiously 
ushered in the Sabbath, and observed all the holi- 
days. 

So the year wore on, and the day before Pesach 
was again at hand. Mrs. Cohen tucked the worn- 
out covers around her children, and fondly kissed 
them good-night. Then she joined her husband 
down-stairs, and at once unburdened her heart to 
him. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


27 


‘‘Jacob/’ she cried, “in two days our mortgage 
has to be paid, or we must leave the house. I re- 
frained frorii speaking about this before, because 
I know how it worries you, but the time has come 
when we must meet the calamity face to face. 
To-morrow evening Pesach begins, and on Tues- 
day, as we cannot pay, we will be without a home. 
What shall we do? Oh, Jacob, what shall we 
do? ” and for the first time Mrs. Cohen lost heart 
and utterly broke down. 

“Trust in God,” said Mr. Cohen, solemnly. 
“ He did not forsake our people thousands of years 
ago, and he will not forsake us now.” 

“You are right, husband,” said Mrs. Cohen, 
drying her tears. “ He does all for the best. 
He has given us four good children, whose love 
throws a ray of sunshine on our dark path. The 
dear little things ! Only to-day I heard them talk- 
ing about Pesach, and Bennie said he was going to 
assist in the Seder this year. I cannot disappoint 
them, so I will get out the yomtoftig dishes and 
pots for to-morrow night’s Seder. In spite of 
Tuesday’s exodus, we will celebrate, as far as it 
lies in our power, the Pesach.” 

The next day, after Mr. Cohen had gone to 
work, all hands were busy. One superintended 


28 


A MODERN ESTHER 


the emptying of crumbs from the pockets of the 
clothing. As the garments were few in number, 
this task was assigned to little Joseph. Sarah 
whisked the corners of the rooms ; Hannah cleaned 
the bureau drawers; Bennie went to the closet 
where the Pesach pots were kept, and began to 
empty it of its contents, while Mrs. Cohen busied 
herself with the matzoh kloss. 

The house was small, and all the inmates were 
in easy speaking distance of each other, yet not a 
word was spoken for some time. The children 
were too much interested in their new work, and 
the mother too sad with the thoughts of the mor- 
row to indulge in conversation. Suddenly the 
stillness was broken by a shout from Bennie. 
“ Mother, I have it ! I have it I See the card-case 
with the mortgage money! Here in the Shalot 
dish. Look, look!” Mrs. Cohen understood at 
a glance what he meant, and with streaming eyes 
was offering a prayer of thanks. 

“ I want it; it’s mine. I put it in there a long 
time ago,” cried Baby Joseph. But no one paid 
any attention to him. They did not care who put 
it there ; all they realized was that their lives were 
to begin anew from that time on. 

In the midst of this scene Mr. Cohen entered the 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


30 


A MODERN ESTHER 


house. When he saw the well-remembered, worn- 
out card case, and the rolls of bills inside, he 
turned to his wife and said: “Rebecca, God has 
been good to us. He has heard our prayers, and I 
thank Him for all his kindness.” 

That night the Seder table looked bright and 
beautiful as the Cohen family gathered around to 
hear the story of how Moses freed the Jews from 
Egyptian bondage. When the prayers were over 
and the wine and matzoh were passed around, Mr. 
Cohen turned to his wife and, lovingly putting his 
arm around her, said, “ Rebecca, you look ten 
years younger.” 

“ And why should I not look young and happy? 
This Pesach has given me new vigor. With the 
thought of paying off the mortgage and retaining 
our dear home, I know we will begin life anew, 
and with God’s help be able to build a solid foun- 
dation for the future of our beloved children.” 



i 




i# 


i^- » 




i' 1 








> 





4 


%« 


r 's 


• • 


5:J 


MM 


A 



WORDS OF LOVE. 





O you, my little readers, who have 
loving parents to care for you, and 
are taught to put your trust in God 
and look to him for protection, little 


Elsie will seem an object of pity and will arouse 
your sympathy. She grew like a wild flower by 
the wayside, sometimes looked at and admired by 
a passer-by, but left to live her lonely life in her 
own wild way. Her parents died, alas, when 
Elsie as a wee baby, and her grandma, with 
whom she lived, was an invalid and weary of the 
world. She was an old woman whom grief and 
trouble had embittered to such an extent that she 
seldom spoke, and when she did it was tO' scold 
rather than to praise. Elsie, who was used to her 
ways, returned smiles for frowns, cheerful words 
for silence or fretful speeches. As the wild rose 
is full of honey, so Elsie was sweet and pure at 
heart, and her little feet and hands never wearied 
in waiting on her grandma, even to doing the cook- 
ing and attending to the house. “ How old was 
she?’’ did you ask. Eight years old, but her un- 
schooled mind was like an infant’s in regard to 
3 33 



34 


A MODERN ESTHER 


religion and learning. Nobody ever visited her 
home. Grandma Kraus, by her reticence, had long 
since driven Rabbi and acquaintances from her 
door. 

Now it chanced one day that Elsie’s uncle, who 
lived far away from the town wherein she dwelt, 
was passing on his way to a rocky beach, where his 
physician had ordered him to go, quite near to 
Elsie’s home. He was her father’s brother and 
had only seen the child once, on the day of 
her father’s funeral. The uncle had frequently 
thought of the lonely little girl, with her baby face 
and golden curls, and he and his wife had often 
wished they could have her come to live with them 
and fill their childless home with sunshine and 
laughter, but the grandma’s stern face always 
came between and the subject was dismissed. But 
this time the uncle declared he would try his per- 
suasive powers on the grandma, and, if possible, 
carry the child away to the beach for the summer, 
“ For,” said he to his wife, “ a little sunshine is 
better than none at all.” 

Elsie was arranging a bouquet of flowers in the 
garden adjoining her home when her uncle en- 
tered. She looked up in surprise at this unex- 
pected intrusion and was about to run shyly away, 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


35 


when Mr. Stone’s kindly voice arrested her atten- 
tion, and in a very short time he won her confidence 
to such an extent that hand in hand they entered 
the cottage together. 

Grandma was no less surprised to see the uncle, 
but was not so easily won over. “ How could she 
spare Elsie ? Who' would take care of her during 
the long summer months that would follow ? 
Was she not lonely enough in her old age? Did 
they begrudge her even this comfort? ” and so on, 
raising objection on objection until the uncle was 
about to give up the argument. Suddenly Elsie, 
with tears in her eyes, ran to her grandma, and 
throwing her arms around the old lady’s neck, she 
sobbed, “Please, granny, let me go ! I’m so lone- 
some here. I’ll be such a good girl when I come 
back that you’ll be glad you let me leave you. 
Anna Burns will come and stay with you. I’ll 
pay her out of the money dear papa left me.” 

The uncle explained how his servant would 
come and keep house for grandma until Elsie re- 
turned, and finally, by Elsie’s pleading and uncle’s 
reassuring words, grandma gingerly gave consent. 

It was arranged that the maid was to come and 
get Elsie ready for her trip, which was to occur on 
the day after. 


36 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Would the time never pass! How long those 
two days were 1 Elsie sang and flew through the 
house like an untamed bird; even the grandma’s 
reproachful words could not stop her. But when 
she came to the rocky beach she was beside her- 
self with wonder, delight and fear. The height 
of the rocks, the softness of the sand, the countless 
shells, the roar and roll of the ocean almost took 
her breath away, and the aunt and uncle would sit 
by the hour watching her at play, and they thanked 
God for allowing this sun-beam to enter their 
lives. 

“ Auntie, isn’t the sand soft and silvery? ” she 
said one day. “Who made it?” 

“ God made it, dear, and He knows every grain 
of it as he knows His children.” 

“Who is God? Does He own this beach?” 
asked the innocent child. Her grandma never 
spoke of nor prayed to God, and so the lonely 
child knew not of her Maker. 

“ God owns this beach and owns the world. 
He created the world, and He has given to us. His 
children, minds and hearts and hands, so that we 
can make use of the things around us.” 

Elsie’s eyes were wide open in awe and wonder. 

“ Did He make the ocean and the rocks? ” she 
asked in a whisper. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


37 


“ He made the water and the land, the rocks 
and the valleys. He causes the sun to shine by 
day and the moon by night, and He looks down on 
us with love and bids us live.” 

“Does He love me, too? Granny never told 
me of God. Maybe He don’t know our village 
and our cottage,” said the child. 

“ God knows everything and He is everywhere. 
He hovers over the smallest cottage as well as over 
the grandest palace.” 

“ Oh ! I love God. He must be very good,” 
exclaimed Elsie. 

“ God is love,” reverently said her aunt. 

That night, as auntie was tucking the covers 
around Elsie as she lay in her little bed, she said, 
“ Daughter, would you like to thank God for all 
the pretty things He has given you this day, and 
all His loving kindness to you? ” 

Elsie’s face beamed with her answer, and with 
folded hands and bowed head she offered up her 
first prayer. 

What a happy girlie she was that summer and 
how she loved to listen to her aunt tell of the won- 
ders of heaven and earth and praise the Master 
of all. 

At last came the time for departure, and sad as 


38 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Elsie was to leave her dearly loved relatives, she 
was anxious to see her grandmother and tell her 
all about the treasures of the beach and the glories 
of God. 

“I’m sure grandma does not know of God or 
she would have told me about His love,” she said. 

Grandma had missed the child more than she 
dreamed she could ever miss anyone. The maid- 
servant was kind and helpful, but what was she 
compared to Elsie, to laughing, happy, singing, 
romping Elsie! 

“She is coming back! she is coming back to 
me,” her heart kept repeating all that live-long 
day, and finally, when Elsie did burst through the 
open door and threw herself into her grandma’s 
arms, there was such a flood of sunshine in the 
room that the little, homely cottage seemed trans- 
formed. 

“Did you miss me, granny?” lovingly asked 
.the child. 

“ Aye that I did. But how well you look! ” 

The grandma saw something in the child’s face 
that was lacking before. It was love and faith. 

“Were you well, granny? I prayed for you 
every night.” 

“ God bless the child,” tenderly spoke the 


AND OTHER STORIES. 39 

grandma, and for the first time in ten years she 
was heard to mutter a prayer. 

“ Granny, I have learned such wonderful 



things,” solemnly spoke the child, and in her own 
sweet way she told the aged woman of God, His 
goodness and His greatness. 


40 


A MODERN ESTHER 


“And did you pray for me, child?” chuckled 
the granny with tears in her voice and eyes. 
“ Your mother used to pray for me, too, but that 
was ages ago.” 

“ Granny, teach me mother’s prayer,” pleaded 
the little one. And with the yellow curls nestling 
on granny’s bosom the reverential words of love 
were spoken. 


THE TWINS 








‘v: 


1 w 

#v 










*. t 






■/fW;' 



•'W 


?fU i'-''i’'?f 


A „•• * J ‘t I > 

; V •■ •'. 


^ i 




^Jiii 




."'f 


• • 




» »■ 


^ *j 




f:». * « 


■I 


n 


I , 


\ 


% - T*' 


Jk 


iS 




if' 




.♦ • 


f 


.t. 


• ' ^> .. *4 


i 1 


I 


■ \ 


‘a1 


Bt: 




t » 






« I '»■ j ■ 






V- >■ 


* V 




» .' V* 




i-i, 


W i. 


1 


T\ A 








if.N 


'.V 






'• •! 










•' I ^ 


I li 


•• Vi 


i» / 


> 


%“• 






L« 




-Vi'',' 

7, 'i., , 

Jt Nil - ■ 

W,i i ■ 


i A ’ 


4 < » 

> I •. •w 




»T 


•,>. 


& 
. .y 


^*ii' 






1 1 


r^> 


.i •«! 


f t 


»» < iii 




f r 


' • .', t 


t - '.'• 


*Tf 




4/^5 


j 


Sm ■% 


.f-'V 


r K’j 


^ 1 lV..v^*'<. V:--* 

' J ./rtf L *'' 




.> ^ 




i; 








■V 




% 








.cv 


.•*». 




fjri 


f » 




•« ♦, 


f/'i 


' f\ .**•'' •* ** * I ^Ptfi 9 

-y ",:*. • jt' t-- , . . f .-V , M j 




»> 


W V 




5^ * 


I ; - 


if/. 


• » < 


7 / 


■V 


'1^ ^ 


yf. 


I 


t- 




m 




T 'll. 


it >r^- 


1 / 


'»‘’5 




' * V 


J ►. 


Ik' 


V fr >■ 


' I'li 




' t/. 


J» ’< 


i . 






S>i 


:> 


w 


r 




'Hf* ** •♦ 




* ,TN<, 




J 


i> 


r V 




r» 


t 


\\ 


it 


i. .'t 




: <* 


Jr 




/. I 


STrn 


lU!^ J 










THE TWINS. 


HY, Ruth, where did you find that 
bright-eyed little boy, and what are you 
going to do with him?” asked Mrs. 
Levis, as Ruth, a girl of twenty, en- 
tered the sitting-room leading a shy little fellow, 
eight years old, by the hand. 

“You know, mother, we have often wished for 
some childish voice and merry laughter to brighten 
our home, and to make you and father forget the 
past. To-day, while showing Blanche Nathans 
the sights of our city, we went to the Orphan 
Asylum. This little one attracted me most 
strangely, and, on questioning the matron and 
finding that he belonged to no one, I brought him 
along, and now I mean to make him my special 
care.” 

“ Come, child, tell me your name,” said Mrs. 
Levis, drawing the timid boy to her arms. 

“ At the Home they call me Julius.” 

“Julius? Is that your full name?” 

“ Mother, I think Julius would like to look at 
these pictures,” said Ruth, coming to the child’s 
relief; he had tears in his pretty eyes. Then she 
43 




44 


A MODERN ESTHER 


placed him in a big arm-chair, where he soon for- 
got the strangeness of his surroundings while look- 
ing at the brightly colored pictures of animals and 
birds. 

Ruth and Mrs. Levis sat a little apart, the one 
telling and the other eagerly listening to this little 
child’s short history. 

‘‘About four years ago, while the matron of 
the Orphan Asylum was unlocking the doors of the 
building one winter’s morning, she saw this child 
shivering on the door-step. In his hand he held a 
letter addressed to her. The letter was from a 
poor woman who implored her to take care of her 
child until she could take him back again. It was 
the lament of a broken-hearted mother, and was so 
appealing that the matron kept the little one. 
Soon the child became the pet of the Home, and as 
the years passed, and no mother came to claim 
him, it was believed she was dead. The matron 
has now accepted a position elsewhere, so she was 
not sorry to see little Julius go home with me, 
knowing that I would take care of him, and not 
knowing who would succeed her at the Home.” 

“ It is a sad story,” said Mrs. Levis, “ and I am 
glad we are able to give this poor boy a good 
home. Perhaps this may, in a measure, atone for 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


45 


your father’s severe treatment of our poor Rachel, 
after she ran off and married that adventurer. 
Oh, Ruth? I cannot help thinking of my poor 
daughter. She may be in need.” Mrs. Levis 
was crying. “To think that in ten years I have 
not heard a word from her. Every year that has 
passed since then, has seemed an eternity to me.” 

“ Dear mother, I shall be sorry I brought Julius 
home, if he is going to bring unpleasant recollec- 
tions. Besides, father forbids the mention of her 
name.” 

Before many days had passed Julius felt per- 
fectly at home, and was soon the favorite of every 
one, from Father Levis to Susan, the cook, who 
often gave him, on the sly, cake and candy. 

The winter passed, and it was Purim eve. 

“Aunt Ruth, you promised to tell me a story 
this evening. I have finished studying,” said 
Julius. 

Ruth could think of nothing more fitting than 
the story of King Ahasuerus and good Queen 
Esther, and she related it, adding that the features 
of this holiday were the assisting of the poor, and 
general rejoicing. “When I was a little girl,” 
she said, “my sister and I used to mask ourselves 
and go to see the neighbors. Once I was dressed 


46 


A MODERN ESTHER 


as a wash-woman. I had a long calico dress on, 
a big sun-bonnet on my head, and my sleeves were 
rolled up above my elbows. I looked so funny 
that even mamma did not know me.” 

Julius laughed heartily at this ; then after a little 
more talk, he bade Ruth and his parents, for so he 
called them, good-night, and went to his room. 

Ruth was putting his school books in order for 
the following day’s work, when there came a timid 
ring at the door-bell. 

“ I shall go, mother,” she said. “ Susan has 
gone to see her sick brother.” 

“ Please buy some matches,” came in a weak 
voice from the door, and there stood a little boy, 
dressed in rags, trembling from head to foot. 

Ruth’s laughter rang through the hall. “ Come, 
mother, see our Julius in his Purim eve disguise. 
He is a clever fellow, is he not? How much are 
your matches, little actor? ” 

“ Three boxes for five cents,” wailed the child. 

Ruth’s laugh brought her parents to the door. 

“ Here are ten cents, and now come in out of 
the cold, and don’t fool your old father again,” 
said Mr. Levis. 

“ My name is Jake, and I want to go home to 
my sick mother,” sobbed the boy; “let me go, let 
me go I ” 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


47 


The members of the Levis family looked at each 
other in dismay. What could it all mean ? Here 
was Julius crying about his sick mother. Then 
they heard a rush down the hall, and Julius called, 
“ Let me see the Purim mask, too. Aunt Ruth. 
You told me about them, but I never saw any.” 

Side by side stood the two boys — Julius and the 
little match peddler — with the exception of their 
clothes, every inch alike. 

Here was a mystery, and Mr. Levis determined 
to find it out. With kind words he gently drew 
the poor boy into the house, and on close question- 
ing ascertained that he had a sick mother who de- 
pended on her little son’s earnings for support. 

‘‘Wife, this is Purim, and I will look into this 
matter to-night yet,” and they heard him mutter, 
“ Yes, I will do it for poor Rachel’s sake.” 

Mr. Levis accompanied the lad to a miserable 
room in a crowded tenement house, and saw — his 
once-loved eldest daughter in such a pitiable con- 
dition that he forgave her even before he heard 
her sad, sad story. 

Ten years before Rachel had married a Gentile, 
much against her parents’ wishes, a man who 
turned out to be little better than a villain. Her 
only children were twin boys, who, for a while. 


48 


A MODERN ESTHER 


shared her wretchedness. Her pride forbade her 
from appealing to her stern father in her sore 



need. When, however, her husband became too 
cruel, she ran away, leaving one boy at the door of 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


49 


the Orphan Asylum, expecting to call for him as 
soon as she could earn enough to enable her to 
support the two children, and taking the other 
away with her. 

The father’s relenting heart suffered keenly 
while listening to the story of wretchedness and 
suffering told by his daughter. Her sickness now 
was more the effect of cold and want of food than 
anything else, so Mr. Levis had her at once taken 
to his beautiful home, where she was again sur- 
rounded by loving parents, a fond sister and af- 
fectionate children. Her husband was never 
again heard of. 

Rachel was happy and contented now. She 
never spoke of that Purim eve without thanking 
God for his kindness and asking forgiveness for 
the pain, which, during ten long years, she had 
given her parents, who now so readily forgave 
her. 

Julius shared everything with Jake, and these 
two made the old Levis home bright with laughter 
and happiness. 


4 






F?. 






fr'> 






s 




• . t 


'TA 


/• f 


(4 


i 


i 








‘1^ < 


«»(■ 


? * I 


.11. 


' 


V 


f •# 


^ » i 




y 




-)i 


4 \- 


■« 








>> 


:S 


> < «' 


« * 










f ' It 


■f 


.^‘ 'l^-. 




R 


i*| 


I 


«i 




i .■ 




’ '-a 


t 4 






i H 


. 1 ^ 


1 '• 




•ir? 


’. *‘ 'i» 

« I • . 




• ’ 


["K. 


I 


a 


Kijr, 


</ 4^ 


( • 




!-■'• j; 1 




>.< 


. » 1 ^ 


t* 


^•r 4 '• ^' 




>. 






r 


- ^ _£ L 




I.’ I'*; 


■ i 


f ^ 




h^\ 




- A i\ 






I * 


t I 


l4> 


* < 1 . 


'M 




» < 


.» ' 


^-1 


‘I. 


t V 


\ ^ 


.,*• 


.» i 




•4 .. ' • i 


rp! 




» r 


» I 






. 4 ., > 






^ i 




• V 


f\ ■ 


? > 


.t 






• I 


f-4 


_i^ 


1 ♦ " ^ ^ 


^ \ 


#• i •■ - ^ 


jV ^ 


t 


'5 '» r%T- 


♦ . 


;^4 vM 


• » 


iA- 




• » 




•iHj 


J - 




S-.t: 


* J, 


« * 


I 


) 


• «•• 


*vT r 


■41-. 


i 


f^tf^ 










Lv> 






“ ■ ' ■ ’ t i -i. '1 

’ . .F ; T-4S 1 , ^ ; I 


M I 




h 


Y i» 


'"i ^ «* * 

i'’ '''-^* 4 '■ ■ f'' ' 

^ 




A - ■ i 

T ‘jL^j 


■■ ■ . A 






i 1 


> #y 






♦ 


i.« 






■ . i A . ’1 ' - 'i A 

\{/-' 'jn(.VF ** 


- 1 - 


.a ■• I ‘ \ ' « 


:. 4^' 




■; ■r'V 






ifi). 


r, 


1 


• f 


» ■ 


a?' 




■i- 


^ , .. 


j 




ir K 


'»fj 


'i1 


»> 




'.t' 


t* 


tj-* 


S' 


>ri 


i 


< Ihii! 


N. • » 


* • »_ 


A 


.n* 


k'.. 


1 *-^ 


.» 4 ^ 


-nW ''. 







D 




i 


i 


I 



1 


I 



i 








\ 



\ ' I 

' t 

i1 ► 


■ t . , 

3 

i ' 
t 


• i 

I ' 





/ 




HOW IT CAME ABOUT. 


PART I. THE INVENTION. 

VEN though many of you have never 
traveled in Italy, you can, I have no 
doubt, all imagine yourselves there, 
wandering with me through the poor 
Jewish quarter of the city of Naples. Here, dilap- 
idated houses are grouped together, and squalid 
and sickly men, women and children crowd the 
sidewalks and doorsteps. In perhaps the cleanest 
of these houses the characters of this story dwell. 

The two occupants are all that remain of a once 
prosperous, happy family of five. If we glance 
through the window on the ground floor we would 
see a tall, gaunt man bending over a huge and com- 
plicated piece of machinery, which occupies a 
quarter of the small room. Hunger and sorrow 
are graven in unmistakable lines on every feature 
of his strong face, as he mutters, “Not yet, not 
yet,’* and sets to work with redoubled energy on 
the huge iron mechanism before him. 

Signor Rosali had held a very good position as 
engineer in a large factory where fine tapestries 
53 




54 


A MODERN ESTHER 


were woven. Being of an inventive turn of mind, 
his one desire was to perfect the apparatus in use so 
as to accomplish the work in half the time and save 
the labor of half the number of workers. With 
this idea in his mind he relinquished his position 
and devoted his entire time to his invention. But, 
alas! fate was cruel to him and to his family. 
His darling five-year-old daughter was stricken 
with a fever from which she died shortly after. 
Then the mother languished from grief, and all 
the savings of his life time were spent in his efforts 
to restore her to health. The shock, however, 
was too great, and mother and daughter were laid 
side by side in the Jewish cemetery outside of the 
city. Broken hearted and poor, the father, with 
Rocco, his eleven-year-old son, and Natali, the 
nine-year-old daughter, moved from their pretty 
home to the Ghetto quarter in which we find them. 

Here they had lived for about six months, when 
a neighbor observing the daily struggle of the 
father, not only at his machine, but to feed and 
care for the children, especially the girl, suggested 
taking the child to America with them and there 
afford her an opportunity of becoming self-sup- 
porting. 

At first Rosali was deaf to the thought of part- 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


55 


ing with another of his dearly beloved, but the cry 
of hunger and the pinched cheeks of Natali pleaded 
for her, and he consented, saying : 

“ It will not be for long. Soon I will complete 
my work and then I will be a rich man and will 
join my little one on the broad American shores 
where, perhaps, peace may be with us again.” 

Natali, scantily equipped, bade farewell to her 
father and brother, and went with her new friends 
far across the ocean to the new world, so full of 
imaginary sunshine and prosperity. 

Then Rosali applied himself to the completion 
of his invention with all his might, but his heart 
was not in his work, and many a time Rocco, bend- 
ing over his school books in the other corner of 
the room, saw his father’s head sink on his breast 
and heard him mutter, “Not yet, not yet. God 
help me, I am at my wit’s end.” 

The neighbors frequently came to his assistance, 
and Rocco spent much time after study hours try- 
ing to earn something to keep body and soul to- 
gether, but misfortune had sought out this poor 
home and claimed it as her own, and it proved a 
bitter fight. 

Finally Rosali begged for work at his former 
factory, and for old times’ sake they found a 


56 


A MODERN ESTHER 


vacancy with a salary sufficient for Rosali’s and 
Rocco’s sustenance. Here, the sad man spent his 
days. His evenings and many nights were spent 
at his machine, which ever eluded his attempts to 
make it “ go.’’ This great iron thing did all but 
breathe; but it was the breath of life which was 
lacking, and without which all the inventor’s labor 
and thought were in vain. 

It was about six months after Natali’s depar- 
ture, when we, glancing into his window, see the 
careworn inventor wipe the perspiration from his 
brow as his head sinks upon his breast. Now we 
see him lift his head, and, looking toward heaven, 
he ejaculates a prayer of supplication. These pro- 
ceedings are not new to Rocco, for has not his 
father done the same thing almost nightly for the 
past six months ? But what followed was strange 
and frightened the boy. Rosali, in a frenzy of de- 
spair, took his hammer and gave the engine three 
hard blows; laughed a wild, hard laugh and cried 
aloud : 

“ The evil one is in my work. I’ll fly into the 
night and try to shake him off.” 

Again he struck the machine several times, and 
fled from his home, hatless, and without even a 
look at Rocco. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


57 


The boy stood transfixed with terror at first, 
then he ran to the door and called his father’s 
name, but the night was chilly and dark, and 
silence was without. Rocco, stricken with fear, 
prayed aloud; not in passion, but calmly. He be- 



seeched the Almighty to have pity on His children 
and send his father safely home again. The 
prayer relieved his over-wrought feelings and 
calmed him. He shut the door, and was about to 


58 


A MODERN ESTHER 


go back to his book when he noticed the heavy 
hammer lying on the most delicate part of the ma- 
chinery. He had frequently watched his father at 
work, and knew considerable about the mechanism 
of the invention. So now he ran to it, threw the 
hammer aside and began an examination in the 
hope of repairing any damage the blows might 
have caused. Here a bolt had fallen out of its 
place; there a screw had become loosened; the oil- 
can had been upset and emptied of its contents ; in- 
deed, there was much for him to adjust, and he did 
it quickly and deftly, hoping his father would soon 
grow calm and return. 

The boy was just putting the finishing touches 
to the machine when he suddenly felt a vibration 
under his hand. The room seemed to tremble, 
and the huge iron thing was in motion I 

“ It breathes, it lives ! ” he sobbed. “ Oh, God, 
Thou hast heard my prayer. I give thanks to 
Thee on high! Father, father, come home! 

His cry pierced the darkness to where Rosali 
wandered, half crazed by his despair, at the 
water’s edge. The sound brought him back to 
his senses. He fairly flew to his house, and fell 
panting on the threshold. 

“ Rocco,” he whispered, “are you there; what 
is wrong? ” 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


59 


“Wrong!” shrieked the now happy boy. 
“ Nothing is wrong. See, father, your pet, your 
youngest child breathes, and will live to make your 
old age happy.” 

Supported by Rocco, Rosali stood before the 
working mechanism. He was perfectly sober 
now, and realized how it had all come about. 
The oil had lubricated the parts; the blows of the 
hammer had loosened and tightened the rivets just 
where it was necessary, and had put the final 
touches to the almost perfect machine. Rosali 
raised his voice in prayer and fervently thanked his 
Heavenly Father for His great mercy. 

“ Now we can journey to America, and live with 
Natali,” he said, as he embraced Rocco. 

The great factory owner was not long in seeing 
the advantages of Rosali’s invention, and paid the 
inventor a handsome sum for its use. 








rr. 


• I-A' 






•t 




L 1 '* 


rii 


< -i- 


?• 








;>: 













i:>i: 


v 






:'A-‘ 


k ‘ •-* M . 




j 


■t i 


'. I 


t '> I ^ 


S -u <•%*>?.* 




t-^A • l 


ki 






< j**?] 


% < *. 






-^ ■' /. ' 




% 




W 


fx 




'f- 




iMa 


y 


■ • * I 

!f 


.li 


'i 


— ^ '•■'■ / t ' VI * 


■I 


ITV-i t • '•>! 




-t ' 


s »• 


m 




v'y 


kry 


lA, ' - 


•» ^ 


\‘4 


i\ 


f 


-(’^1 ‘; 






l-'iil 




'.t 


I ^ 

% 


4 * 


*1#: 


> ■ t 


i f*. 


>Tr;t 


''^J 8 ^J 


1% 




r*^ /i 


if - Tl 
















<■ jf> 




V 


c>. 


./% 




ff, 


* 




A 


l-u<-. 










- - 


V. l1 






( 




, J ' 


*>jm 


/ f 


i*' 


w*. 




yf » » 






} '* .’ * 




•r 

l 


i . 


A A 


s' 


t-/> 


i; 


•'T. 


i>4; 


♦ 


4i ifA-m 


¥' 


h 


j <1 


v: 






Aju 


i 


li 


^i. 


f 




.1 




i; 




< w 


V 


•'"tj 




«> » 






n 


%4 


'A !V 


i 






, \\ 


y< 


< ' * 


r ». 


'i •'? 






1^ 


. • >v 


• if 


» J. 


^ J 




‘ '‘i* {;• ’ f® ' 

I ) ) i' v'r ♦ ' V it/ ' »" 

t ■' ^ 




■11 






o » 


#* 


f #>- 


>n 




1/ 




ki‘ 






* - * ' 1 1 *^ 4 *^ ''■''' 

**■ ' 




> . 


i»'M 


»' « 


• I 


iW. • ^ 


S « 






2< 




•* »i 






, 'f 






‘Lr 


VT 












1*^4 






>. 


ii\ ‘ ' 


< 


ft 




LT^/** 


1 1, 


ij 




tibi^ 




k ' ■ ' 

w;«i, .i\J:^Ei8 




' ,■*>' 


I r 


« / 


ST, 


/4‘ 


i*i 


?4:' 


riM 


\.mKt 




^.JCI, 










i>^ 






\ - 


^4A 


* f ^*1 


i''k.U, 


>Ie., 




ty 


JU 














HOW IT CAME ABOUT. 

PART II. THE ADOPTION. 



HE trip across the Atlantic was very 
trying for our nine-year-old Natali, 
leaving, as she did, everybody and 
everything she loved in sunny Italy. 
The big ship tossed and rolled on the huge ocean, 
until the child, in the stuffy, crowded steerage 
wished she had remained at home with her father 
and Rocco, even at the risk of starving, rather than 
being thrown among strangers on an unknown sea. 

Her religion stood her in good stead during the 
first gloomy days and brought her much comfort. 
The Rosali family had relinquished many of the 
more orthodox Jewish ceremonials, but conscien- 
tiously observed the holy days and Sabbaths. The 
parting injunction of the father to Natali had 
been: “No matter what happens, dear, put your 
trust in God. He has always been kind to Israel, 
and He will not forsake one of His children.’’ 
Then he had blessed the girl and gave her a final 
embrace. 

There were very many poor Jews on the ship, 
and as they were all quite religious, they formed 

63 



64 


A MODERN ESTHER 


themselves into a congregation and conducted ser- 
vices on the Sabbath eve and morning. 

Now, it happened that among the first cabin pas- 



sengers there were a gentleman, his wife and child 
who were returning to their home after a pleasure 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


65 


trip abroad. They, too, were Jews, and being the 
only ones on the upper deck who were of this 
faith, they asked permission to join the little con- 
gregation in prayer. Here it was that they first 
saw Natali, and it was small wonder that they 
were attracted by the dark-skinned, curly-headed, 
blue-eyed, pretty child. She seemed about the age 
of their own little girl, only so sad and thin and 
poor. 

After the services, Jennie (that was the name of 
the other little girl) whispered to her mother: 

Please, may I speak to her? I want to ask her 
where she is going, and where she comes from. I 
wonder whether that cross-looking woman is her 
mother? ” 

Mrs. Myers gave consent, saying: 

“You may speak to her, but do not be too in- 
quisitive.” 

Jennie knew sufficient Italian to make herself 
understood by Natali, and before many minutes 
had passed the two children were chatting cozily 
together. Natali only too gladly told her willing 
listener all she wanted to know. With tears in 
her eyes she recounted the deaths of her darling 
mother and sister, and told of the sad misfortunes 


5 


66 


A MODERN ESTHER 


of her father, ending: “ Please God, It will all turn 
out well In the end, but the way seems so dark.” 

“Who Is she?” asked Jennie, Indicating Na- 
tali’s chaperone. 

“ She is our neighbor from Italy, who promised 
papa she would be kind to me and take care of me ; 
but” — and here Natali lowered her voice to a 
whisper — “She isn’t anything like my dear mother. 
She scolds me all the time when I’m sad, and some- 
times I feel afraid of her.” 

Jennie put her arms around her unhappy com- 
panion. 

“ Don’t cry,” she said, “ she may be all right 
when you get settled in your new home. By the 
way, where are you going to live? ” 

“We have no home. Mr. Basso — that’s her 
husband — will try New York first, and If he can- 
not make a living there we will go out West some- 
where.” 

“ New York is my home,” said the Impulsive 
Jennie, “And I’m going to write my address on 
a card for you. If you ever need a friend come to 
see me and I’ll help you.” 

Further conversation was cut short by her par- 
ents summoning her to dinner. They, too, were 
Interested In Natali’s story, and indorsed Jennie’s 
decision to assist the forlorn Italian girl. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


67 


What a great place New York is, and how won- 
derful it seems to a foreigner I 

Natali was at first consumed with curiosity to see 
everything and to know all the whys and where- 
fores of this new world ; but soon she became very 
homesick, especially as her care-takers were cross 
and unreasonable with her. Was it her fault that 
she did not understand the English language? 
Could she help it that the Bassos met with disap- 
pointments at every turn? They knew that she 
had barely enough money to see her across the 
ocean, but they had promised her father that she 
should be as their daughter and enjoy the little 
they had with them. 

On these conditions Rosali had let Natali ac- 
company them, assuring his neighbors that he 
would pay back their kindness with interest when 
his great invention succeeded. 

But alas I Promises are not always kept sacred, 
and the Bassos gave vent to their disappointments 
in their treatment of poor Natali. 

Natali had frequently thought of Jennie and 
longed to tell her troubles to this sympathetic 
friend, the only one she had in all America. 
Every day she sighed, “ Maybe they’ll be kinder to 
me to-morrow and I’d rather not bother Jennie 


68 


A MODERN ESTHER 


with my grief,” but the morrow was always worse 
than the preceding day, until finally she determined 
to call on the Myers. When she went to the box 
to look for the card which contained Jennie’s ad- 
dress, she could not find it, and her heart sank with 
grief. It must have been lost in moving. 

Before she had been three months in New York 
she was standing at a street corner selling papers. 
School had to be neglected, scoldings and angry 
looks were her portion when she failed to bring 
home a certain number of pennies from her day’s 
selling. 

“Why should we feed you for nothing?” the 
Bassos would say to her. “You eat more than 
we do together, and your bed is worth something, 
I should think.” 

“ But,” feebly protested Natali, “ Papa expects 
to pay you back. See, he says so in this very 
letter.” 

“ I would’nt give that for your father’s inven- 
tion,” sneered Mr. Basso, snapping his thumb and 
forefinger. “He is a dreamer.” 

“ Yes,” chuckled Mrs. Basso, “ Only he sleeps 
his time away a-dreaming in the day time, while 
others work.” 

Natali’s face flushed as she answered, “ Please 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


69 


do not say unkind things of my dear father. I’ll 
not listen,” and she flew to her little room to pour 
out her sorrow in a long heart-breaking letter to 
that father who stood in his far-away home half 
crazed, working over his invention. 

One day while standing at an up-town street 
corner, shouting “ Extra ! All about the great 
fire!”, Natali heard a familiar voice call her 
name, and on looking around she saw Jennie. As 
on the previous occasion she made this friend of 
her ocean voyage her confidant, and the two min- 
gled their tears over Natali’s tribulations. 

“Why did you not come to see me?” asked 
Jennie. “You promised to look me up in case you 
needed assistance.” 

Then Natali told of her search for the card, 
how it had been lost, and of her desolate feeling 
when she could not find it. “ From that mo- 
ment,” she said, “ I made up my mind that I had 
my own life to fight for and you see how I am do- 
ing it.” 

“Well I must say you’re plucky; but now that I 
have found you I mean to keep my eye on you. 
Where do you live ? ” 

Natali gave her street and number, and after a 
little more conversation parted from Jennie. 


70 


A MODERN ESTHER 


It was not difficult to interest Mrs. Myers in 
Natali’s welfare. She was glad to see Jennie 
anxious to help one less fortunate than herself, so 
she encouraged her to plan for Natali’s good. 

“ I think it is a shame for her, a timid girl, to 
have to sell papers like any little street boy,” she 
said to her mother. 

“It is no disgrace to work for a living,” an- 
swered Mrs. Myers. 

“ No, indeed,” said Jennie; “ but there are other 
ways. I say, mother, couldn’t you find some nice 
work for her after school hours? I’m sure she 
cannot make more than twenty-five cents a day 
selling papers.” 

“ I was thinking that if the Bassos will give her 
up she could room next to Ellen, and perhaps assist 
Ellen with the dishes after dinner and run er- 
rands.” 

“ Oh, mother, you are a darling,” cried Jennie, 
hugging her mother. “ I’m sure she will be glad 
to come, and I’ll be happy to have her. I’ll help 
her with her lessons, and I’ll teach her to mend 
her clothes, and I’ll fix up her room, and I’ll — ” 

“Not so fast, pet. There are others to con- 
sider besides ourselves,” said the mother. “To- 
morrow is the Sabbath. After service we will call 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


71 

on the Basso family and hear what they have to 
say to all this.” 

The Basso family lived in a dingy house in a 
dingy court of a dingy street, not so very far away 
from Jennie’s home. The little money they had 
brought with them was fast being eaten up by the 
unhappy pair and the still unhappier Natali. All 
Mr. Basso’s attempts at finding work proved fruit- 
less. Even his peddling was unsuccessful. Luck 
certainly seemed against him. Natali proved a 
burden to the Bassos (according to their code) in- 
stead of a blessing, so that when Mrs. Myers and 
Jennie presented themselves at the wretched abode, 
and offered to relieve them of the child, they 
speedily acquiesced. A small bundle containing 
Natali’s meagre belongings was soon tied together, 
and Natali, with a lighter heart than she had 
known since her mother’s death, accompanied her 
friends to their home. 






Part III-THE REUNION 








- ■ .'^r* 1 


^.1 




A' 





il 




1 ' h 


.y^J> V 


■l^. p' 

1 '• ^ 

:^l' 

Ait/v* . . : c 


1 ■% 




4.» 

I'Pli ™r _-. V 

11 ^. 




( i 








.».r 




-IT 


* 'H 


>/ 


l&TII 


M ' • 


• /’ 


tl 


i\tir>- 


f 4 


4 * 


•? 


’kvr i. 




•A 


« ^ 


I j' i j 


-< 4 










• ^ 


w f t 


♦ J. r 




^MhK 




i- 


!i«l. ? 


*. * 




s'V 


9 . 


A 


' • 5 ‘ ■ - ■ ^ ii 4 

‘ .s'* i'<^l .'M. 


»] • • v« 
















^■n: 




A 


I'/ 


A 


:l 


ir 


f*] 


IV 


r' ■/♦ 

<■•1! '.-Til 

l^&« 




ser’^.;;:;v| m- % 


U 


s, ? 




f! 


^1 






'«'■■; >1 r*jt. 




•ii 






^1 


J . I 


^'Ir 4T ' ■'■ ' 


i-- 


" K 




1 • ' 

■* 

« 

*i.T ■ *■ 


■ ^ • '« 

k k 

.'v *->" 

• 

■• ViS'-r 


,1 ♦ 




V 


r) 


• * 


-- I 


■Tli 








/.■r- 


P *4 


-r * 







HOW IT CAME ABOUT. 


PART III. THE REUNION. 



O the child it seemed like fairyland to 
live at the Myers’ home, after her 
many privations and trials. Every- 
thing was so dainty and pretty and 
clean and new. Her little room was as cozy and 
bright as Jennie’s deft fingers could make it. 
Jennie’s time had been very limited, as barely a 
day had passed since she had conceived the idea 
of having Natali live at her house, but “where 
there’s a will there’s a way,” she sang, and ran 
merrily from room to room, taking a picture from 
one, an ornament from another. Here she found 
a spare cushion, and there an unused rocker. 

Fortunately her mother had several pairs of 
curtains in reserve, and one of these, white with 
pink roses scattered over them, to match the wall- 
paper, was tacked to the window in the little room 
adjoining Ellen’s. Nothing had been forgotten. 
In one corner stood a little table, on which Jennie 
had placed an Italian history, several children’s 
magazines and plenty of pens, ink and stationery. 
75 



76 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Thoughtful Jennie! Happy Natali! Is it a 
wonder that when the latter’s father and Rocco re- 
ceived the letter written that night in the homelike 
little room they wept tears of joy for their dar- 
ling’s sake. 

Natali was not the kind of girl to accept with- 
out giving in return. She knew her progress in 
school would please her benefactors, so she de- 
voted herself diligently to her studies. After 
school hours she assisted Ellen, who from the start 
had taken kindly to the little one. She relieved 
this old servant of many a task, especially when 
“ rheumatiz ” crippled her joints and made her 
walk lame. 

Mr. Myers was the owner of a large yarn mill. 
From Natali he learned of her father’s efforts 
toward perfecting his inventions, and he placed 
himself in communication with Mr. Rosali, asking 
him to accept a position in his mill, and eventually 
become the foreman, if the work was in his line 
and to his taste. “ My present foreman leaves me 
in a few months, and I will want someone who 
thoroughly understands machinery to be at the 
head of affairs. I have not mentioned my plan to 
Natali, as I wish your coming to be a complete 
surprise to her.” Mr. Rosali answered that he 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


77 


had such faith in his invention that for the present 
he would stick to it, although he and Rocco were in 
very much straitened circumstances. 

“ When I succeed,” he wrote, “ which I pray to 
God will be in the near future, I will sell my inven- 
tion, come to America, and try to make myself of 
service to you to repay you in a measure for your 
extreme kindness to my little Natali. I thank 
God every day for placing her in your hands. 
Your wife must be an angel of goodness, and 
Jennie — God bless her for her sympathy towards 
my motherless baby. My heart is too full for 
utterance. “ Rosali.” 

About three months had passed since Natali had 
taken up her abode with the Myers’s. What 
happy times she and Jennie had together. They 
romped and played, studied and sewed, talked and 
prayed together, and each imbibed the other’s best 
qualities. Here Natali was surrounded by the 
true Jewish spirit, and she developed like a well- 
sunned and watered plant. 

The summer was drawing to a close when a 
letter came from Rosali. Such a letter! It was 
full of his great invention ; of its success and of its 
sale. Rocco came in for a great share of the 
praise, for the happy father was bubbling over 


78 


A MODERN ESTHER 


with joy. “As soon as we can adjust matters,” 
he wrote privately to Mr. Myers, “ we will set sail 
for your friendly shore. My only regret is leav- 
ing my two graves, but the anticipation of embrac- 
ing Natali banishes all grief. We hope to arrive 
about the middle of September ; please God it may 
be before Rosh Hashana, so that we may all begin 
the new year in a truly fitting manner. Will my 
darling be surprised ? God bless her I God bless 
you all! Rosali.” 

The coming Rosh Hashana was the all-absorb- 
ing topic in the Myers household. Jennie and 
Natali were busy penning congratulatory letters 
full of promises and hopes. Natali’s to her father 
and Rocco had been sent two weeks before the 
holy days to make sure that the lonely ones in Italy 
would receive it in time. Little did the child 
dream that the ship bearing the letter to Italy and 
the steamer bearing Rosali and Rocco to her had 
passed each other in mid-ocean. 

Besides the letter she had made a little piece of 
handiwork for each of the two dear ones, but Mr. 
Myers wisely put them aside instead of mailing 
them. She had a trifle for Mr. and Mrs. Myers, 
as did Jennie, and trouble enough did these two 
have in keeping their doings secret. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


79 


At last came the day ( it was the twentieth of 
September) before Rosh Hashana. The arrival 
of a telegram from the steamship company did not 
mean anything to the two little girls who were 
busy decorating the dining room and library with 
flowers, but it meant much to the father and 
mother, who had been eagerly watching the state 
of the weather during the past ten days, hoping 
that the ship would arrive before the twenty-first. 

As Mr. Myers left the house he winked at his 
wife and said: “ Mother, I may bring home some 
guests this evening. Have a company supper and 
prepare the guest chamber.” 

“Why, father?” said Jennie, “to-night is the 
eve of New Year; we are going to have a dinner 
which will be fine, judging by the delicious looking 
cakes mother has been baking.” 

“ I’ll fix up the spare-room,” cried Natali, run- 
ning to suit the action to the word. 

Soon the two were dusting and tidying until 
everything shone. Here, too, a great bunch of 
garden flowers was placed, making the room look 
bright and cheerful. 

Four o’clock struck on this eventful day, when 
the front door bell rang. Natali ran to open the 
door. Mr. Myers was in the library. He had 


8o 


A MODERN ESTHER 


just come home and knew who stood without. 
Mrs. Myers peeped from the dining-room, and 



Jennie, who was by this time in the great secret, 
watched from the study. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


8i 


What they saw was a tall, thin man, and a hand- 
some Italian boy swoop down on the little girl in 
the hallway and almost smother her with their em- 
braces. What they heard was: 

“ Oh ! Oh I Oh I Father ! Rocco I Natali I My 
darling I Sister ! ’’ Then they heard laughter and 
sobs and kisses. 

“Happy New Year! Happy New Year!” 
passed from mouth to mouth that evening after 
service, and indeed, it was the beginning of a 
happy New Year and a happy life for the Rosalis. 

Jennie regretted Natali’s leaving her, but Mr. 
Rosali was anxious to settle in his own home, 
which was located very near to that of the Myers. 
He gladly brought his modern mechanical ideas 
into Mr.'Myers’s mill, and by so doing doubled the 
earnings of the owner. He says he can never 
wholly repay the family for their kindness to 
Natali, but the child’s rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes 
and joyous heart are sufficient recompense to them. 


6 



V ‘■MM > 

‘ *►■ M^HlKJtaL % •►fcXi.SjnF - wJ r ‘MJb 

1^ f ' ^ f dM ■MMK N * ^\^'\ M 

D^a. . 7. h I < ■ UHWim^I MMil iWiiy . « 


CANDLE LIGHTS 








CANDLE LIGHTS. 



AM ROSEN was playing in the large 
garden in front of his home one warm 
spring day. Rex, the dog, was his only 
companion, and the two were having a 
jolly romp on the green. Sam, a boy of five, was 
an only child, and Mr. and Mrs. Rosen’s affections 
were wrapped up in this bright lad. He had all 
the advantages that riches could provide. His 
home was in a beautiful suburb of the city of New 
York, and his toys were many and varied. But 
best of all he liked his Rex, as he was wont to call 
the large Newfoundland dog. 

Wearied with romping, Sam seated himself on 
the porch step, and picking up a stone he called 
to his dog, “ Here, Rex, run for it,” throwing the 
stone far over his head. Rex ran like wild around 
the right side of the house, and as he did so an 
ugly looking, poorly dressed man sprang from the 
other side, hastily threw a cloth over Sam’s head, 
and before the boy knew what was happening, car- 
ried him away. 

The ugly deed was done more quickly than it 
can be told, and poor Sam was far from the reach 



86 


A MODERN ESTHER 


of Rex or any other loving friend by the time the 
faithful dog returned. Thinking that the child 
was playing a trick on him, Rex growled, and lay 
down to rest. The afternoon sun was warm, and 
the dog dozed. 

Mrs. Rosen sat in her bed-room writing a letter. 
She had much to say to her cousin, particularly 
about Sam. He occupied very much of her 
thoughts and time. She wrote: “Just now he is 
having a fine time playing on the lawn with his 
old friend, the dog,” when it occurred to her that 
she had heard no sound from the lawn for some 
time past. She went to the front window, think- 
ing that she would surprise the two napping, but 
saw only Rex. 

“ Sam,” she called. “ Sam, where are you?” 

Rex sprang up and barked. 

“Rex, where is Sam?” she asked. 

Rex sprang to the right and to the left, and 
came back wagging his tail in disapproval. Sam 
was not in sight. 

Mrs. Rosen became alarmed. She called the 
servants, and a thorough search, first of the house, 
then of the grounds, was made, but Sam was too 
far away by this time to hear their cries. His 
abductor kept him closely muffled until they were a 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


87 


mile away, and then threatened him with instant 
death if he dared make a noise. The child was 
almost sick with fright. 

‘‘ Please take me back to my papa and mamma,** 
he pleaded. “ If you do I’ll give you all my 
toys,” and the tears flowed afresh. 

“ You little fool, I don*t want your toys. I 
want you or the money that will pay for you. Do 
you think I stole you for fun ? Oh, no ; I mean to 
make heaps of gold out of you, one way or an- 
other. If your father don’t buy you back, your 
pretty face will bring me in some pennies,” and 
the ugly man laughed a wicked laugh. 

Mr. Rosen offered a large reward for the return 
of Sam, but fear of arrest kept Sam’s abductor 
from giving back the boy. Sam was kept in close 
confinement for a long time, and when finally the 
man became a prey to fear and resolved to leave 
the country with Sam, the child, whose hair had 
grown quite long, was dressed as a girl. This and 
his thinness and pallor made him unrecognizable. 
A hard life he led with his ugly companion. They 
traveled from one place to another. Sometimes 
Sam danced, at other times he sang on the street 
and in public places, until his sad face and pathetic 
voice would bring in money from the crowd of 


88 


A MODERN ESTHER 


lookers on. If the collections at the end of the 
day were good, Sam would get a good supper; if 
otherwise, Sam was treated to blows, and sent sup- 
perless to bed. 

Months and years passed in this way. Sam 
was thirteen and no longer a child at heart. 
Hardships and cruelty had made him desperate, 
and finally he resolved to take matters into his own 
hands, and escape from his tormentor. He was 
a different person from the bright child who had 
been taken away from his parents’ home eight 
years before. His name had been changed to 
Salam. He forgot his last name; forgot where 
his home had been, and forgot his parents. 
Where then should he flee to now? “Any- 
where,” he thought, “ even to death, to get away 
from this life. I am old enough to work, and I 
will work my way to some large city and find em- 
ployment there or die.” 

Accordingly he watched every movement of his 
master, in the hope of a chance of escape, until at 
last the opportunity came, and Salam as we must 
now call him, managed so well that he was on a 
freight train, speeding toward the East long be- 
fore his cruel master missed him. 

As often as he was put off of one train, he man- 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


89 


aged to slip on to another unobserved, until the 
engine puffed out of the station, and then he was 
carried — where? He knew not, nor did he care, 
so long as he was free. On one train he made 
friends with the brakeman, and this worthy man, 
taking pity on Salam’s pale, thin face and scantily 
clothed body, permitted him to sit close to the 
stove in the caboose until the train was almost at 
its destination. 

“We are nearing New York now; you must get 
off here. Better go to your friends, boy,” he said, 
good naturedly. 

Alas for poor Salam, he had no friends. 
Where should he go on this cold December night? 
He left the car and walked through the dark. It 
mattered little to him where he went. The houses 
were lit up. From the parlor windows of one 
house a blaze of light shone out. How warm the 
persons must be inside of that house, he thought. 
He could hear children’s laughter and song. 

“ I wonder whether I could get a cup of coffee 
over there,” he thought. “ I would feel better 
able to walk to the city if I had something to warm 
me. They have children, and they might give me 
something out of pity.” He crossed, walked up 
to the porch and rang the bell. The door was 


90 


A MODERN ESTHER 


opened by the master of the house. A flood of 
light greeted Salam. 

“ I’m so cold. Won’t you let me have a cup 
of coffee?” 

“ Here, mother, is a customer for you,” said the 
man, drawing the shivering, bashful boy inside 
and shutting the door. 

Two little children ran from the lighted parlor 
to see the intruder. The mother took a chair into 
the hall and bade the boy be seated. Then she 
rang for some supper for this hungry child. 

“ How sad he looks,” she said to her husband. 
“ Come, children, we will go on with our song. 
Perhaps it will cheer our little visitor.” 

Salam sat opposite the parlor door. What 
were these lights he saw burning on the centre 
table ? 

The children, led by the father and mother, sat 
around the lighted candles, and sang the quaint 
song of Maoz Zur. The warmth of the fire, the 
glare of the lights and the tune of the song be- 
wildered Salam. Where was he, and where had 
he heard that song before?- He surely must be 
dreaming! No, he knew the tune and the words. 
Why, he could say them. They were all familiar 
to him. And the candles — yes, he had seen them, 
too, before. But where and when ? 


AND OTHER STORIES. 



Are you a Jew?” asked Mr. Rosen. 

I don’t know what I am. Master never went 


92 


A MODERN ESTHER 


to church. But I remember burning candles and 
singing these songs when I was a very little boy.” 

Mrs. Rosen, who was always thinking of her 
darling Sam who had been stolen eight years be- 
fore, paled as she listened to her husband’s ques- 
tions and heard the boy’s answers. She had long 
since given up hope of finding her son, and the 
coming of the babies, Julius and Rebecca, had 
softened her grief; but her mother heart yearned 
for her absent one, and nightly she prayed God 
to protect the homeless. 

“ Who is your master? ” 

“A big man, who made me sing and dance for 
a living.” 

“ Have you no parents ? ” 

“ He said they were dead,” answered Salam. 

“What is your name, boy?” asked Mr. Rosen, 
becoming more and more convinced that the boy 
was their long-lost son. 

“ He called me Salam. His name was Mere- 
dith.” 

“ Think, boy. Can’t you remember your par- 
ents?” said the excited mother. 

At that moment Rex, quite feeble with age, 
walked into the room. 

“ Down, Rex,” shouted little Julius. 

“ Rex! Rex! My Rex,” said Salam, and the 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


93 


boy knelt beside the dog and stroked his shiny fur. 

Rex sprang up with delight. He frolicked 
around the boy, licking his hands and face. 

“ Rex, tell us, is it Sam, our own Sam, come 
back?’’ 

Rex barked loud and long. 

Salam, or Sam, looked around in a dazed way. 
Gradually the parlor, lit by the Hanucca lights, be- 
came familiar to him. Waves of memory swept 
through his brain, and things long forgotten 
throughout the miserable years came back to him 
with a rush. 

“ Mother I ” he cried, and his arms were about 
the woman’s neck. “ My darling mother! ” 

Mr. Rosen led the fainting mother to a chair. 
But joy never kills, and Mrs. Rosen soon opened 
her eyes to find her Sam kneeling beside her. Re- 
becca and Julius had to be introduced to their new, 
or rather old, brother. 

Sam told his story, the beginning of which was 
as clear to him now as the ending. And what 
an ending it was. 

The Hanucca lights were almost burned out by 
this time. Sam asked to have the Hanucca song 
sung once again, adding that it was the Hanucca 
lights that shone out their welcome to him and 
brought him back to his home and God. 






$ 






-1 ,• 

I 

I 




• * 


MAY’S GARDEN. 


HAT a harvest this has been,” said Mr. 
Samson to his wife shortly before Suc- 
coth. “The melons are the finest I 
have ever raised, and the pumpkins are 
enormous. I shouldn’t wonder if they took the 
prize at the State Fair.” 

“ What a beautiful Succah we will have,” said 
his wife, proudly; “and think of the rich harvest 
the neighboring poor will have after our Succoth 
is over.” 

“ I know to whom the products of my garden 
are going,” chimed in little May, their only 
daughter. 

“ I’m sure my pet has selected a worthy cause,” 
said papa with an approving smile. 

“ Indeed he is. He is a little Russian boy who 
came over last summer, and who is living with the 
Leninks. He is very sick and seems so poor and 
lonely.” 

Mr. Samson was a wealthy farmer in the county 
of M — , and unlike many land owners, he and his 
wife and child were beloved by all their tenants. 
To be sure, a goodly part of the crops was sent to 
7 97 




98 


A MODERN ESTHER 


the market and yielded a rich return, but many of 
the cereals and fruits were distributed in the 
village, and many a blessing was pronounced on 
these benefactors of the poor. 

Little May had her own garden, in which she 
planted all sorts of vegetables and fruits. Her 
delight was unbounded when she saw the little 
green sprouts peeping out of the ground, for she 
knew they would gladden the heart of some child, 
after they were fully developed and ready for pick- 
ing. 

The products of her miniature farm were 
always reserved for a poor, sick child. She made 
it her duty to find out the most destitute case, and 
like a beneficent fairy she would take the fruits to 
the bedside and deliver them in person. 

This year her choice fell on Samuel Ralinsky. 
He was a poor Russian boy who had come to 
America to seek his fortune. May learned his 
history from the grocer’s wife, Mrs. Leninks. 

“ I’m afraid he is going to be a burden to us,” 
the latter had said complainingly one day, as the 
maiden came to make a purchase. “ He is so 
bashful, and so delicate, and so awkward.” 

“ Then why did you have him leave his parents? 
I should’nt think a bashful boy would care to cross 
the ocean alone,” replied the child. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


99 


“ Ach I What a question. Why did we leave 
him come? He came and was here before we 
knew anything about it. His mother and I were 
school friends many years ago. She wrote me last 
Pesach, asking me to befriend her Samuel, as, on 
account of poverty and persecution he had to leave 
Russia. For old friendship’s sake Mr. Leninks 
and I wrote and told her to send the boy. We 
thought he could help us in our store ; but it seems 
that the in-door life is too much for him, and now 
we have the expense of having the ‘ Shlemiel ’ sick 
on our hands.” 

The Succoth came, and the whole Jewish popula- 
tion of the village was invited to attend services in 
the Samsons’ Succah, nor did any one leave empty- 
handed. May distributed the food, and as she 
flitted in and out of the crowd she looked like an 
angel dispensing charity. But the one little corner 
of the hut, in which hung her gardenings, she left 
untouched until she was alone with her parents. 

“ Mother, will you help me pack this basket, 
and will you go with me to Leninks to-morrow to 
see Samuel? I am so sorry for the boy; he must 
be lonesome to be among strangers, especially on 
holy days. He is so far away from his parents I ” 
and with loving arms around her parent’s neck she 
told Samuel’s story. 


lOO 


A MODERN ESTHER 


When the two visited the boy next day they 
found a bright-eyed, pale lad of thirteen years, ly- 
ing on the bed. Mrs. Samson’s mother-heart 
warmed toward him in his loneliness, and as she 



heard the story of his wretched life in Russia, 
sympathetic tears streamed from her eyes, and she 
determined to speak to her husband in his behalf. 
“ What he needs is fresh air, out-of-door work and 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


lOI 


nourishing food, and he shall have it, too,” she 
thought. 

Samuel’s joy at receiving the Succoth basket 
more than repaid May for her summer’s garden- 
ing. 

With the Leninks’ consent, about a week later 
the Russian boy began work on Mr. Samson’s 
farm. Arrangements were made that Samuel 
should board with the grocer, for which Mr. Sam- 
son would pay a good rate, and as the boy ad- 
vanced in usefulness his earnings would increase 
accordingly. Much to every one’s surprise, the 
boy showed an aptitude for farming, and before 
long Mr. Samson, besides paying his board, 
allowed him pocket money and opened a small ac- 
count in the savings fund. 

Samuel learned to love his master and his wife, 
but he always called May his real benefactor, and 
as he grew into manhood he attributed all his good 
qualities to May’s noble influences. 

Many Succoths came and went, and the Sam- 
sons, with Samuel, now their superintendent, pros- 
pered. To the latter the Succoth was always the 
most beloved of the festivals, as it had been the 
beginning of his real life. 

It was on Succoth some ten years after his com- 


102 


A MODERN ESTHER 


ing to America that he had his parents cross the 
ocean to live in the pretty little cottage he had 
earned for them, and on Succoth fifteen years after 
his introduction to May, he was married to her in 
the pretty little corner of the Succah, decorated by 
May’s own hands, with the fruits of her own gar- 
dening. 







»jr 


» ' > 










■ • f J * ' I* 


m 


•’V V f'r 


-t 




%■ 


I; 


:fj 


>*c 


s'i 


V/:M 








f 




t 


■’ " >. fj* 


t** ^ 


» • 


:• W 

' vV. 


u ^'• 


f\ < 




^1 




•s 


• I TTi. 


'i 


rli 


V 


j'A * 


4 i 






^-'''v 'iEB 






*f^. 'viifiilc'- if ' 




i:f ''M' ' ■ 


I m 




wj 


uy-* 


**«??. 


'^-T‘..« 

'*n.fk‘y 


•4 


.r-« 


1 •» 


»-*'!!i 




* -> 




'r *1 


r 




> > < ri 


m 


V. > 


» ■' 


'A! li 


m 


■*4lf 


•A^#’ 






'/» 






t *-» A i 


# i.; 


' # 


•V 


>1j 




» r 


‘ , L7. 




7> 


HI 




••15 




rr 


> * ’ 


V. 


I 


iid 


v- 4 i i 


« < 




I . ^ 


i 


Vi 


«>Tr 


-i.' 


> 1 


I ^ 


S.; 


vfl 




■4 i» 


» T » 


A I 

If 






4 it 


iVti ■'' 




At 


<< 


i ».V 




i » 




• A 






T. :. 


If. 


.<V 




•. 


N -.?J 


u 


J S' 


V 


i I 4 I 


• f 1 

;i:- 


7 




4 


I’.*., 


:i/ 




VT, 


?7 










V» l/M 




< f 


,D^ 


rf.r 


[tv 


« • r 


I 




■4; 


♦'•'i 


W 


• «' 






'■si'^-'f-'- 


,*<11 


I 




- -I 


t 


W-' 


^}. 




• r 






i/i 






^i^ ^it'l . tS La . t* ‘ 7 f 

• 'As 

JKJLJSi^ta-^4 V •■ » , .. . V ' -t>T k' 

J * V ^^jj' > V iki 

J ■> • i W j 

.M:a»\S*j4; V. .-'/UV: 




u. 


'4'*’- ■ : 'A 




1 4 . 




.Jf 




. V 


.' 3 , 


a' 




'4f, 


'y 


' 1 ' 






iV 


r » 


ifl 


tn 




w 


li ■ < A - 


w 


;t. 




ki 


■-:^4- 




f" V 


-Vi 


ry>j 




w: 






i}r ^ 


u. 






AS 


iV^' 


r.i > 


1 ^ 










t» I' 


I r. * 




•- It j. 


» » 


./«: 








^ .V 


#iar 


> A 






ii*. 








RECONCILIATION. 



OMETIMES trifling incidents bring 
about the worst results, as was the case 
with the two Cahin families, about 
which I am going to tell you. Miriam 
and Lena were first cousins ; born in the same year, 
and destined by their parents to be chums through 
life. The first six years of their short existences 
passed peacefully and happily for these young com- 
panions. The parents took houses adjacent to one 
another in the suburbs; the gate between the two 
gardens was taken off, and the large and the little 
folks enjoyed each other’s society to the full. 

But when the children entered upon their 
school careers at the early age of seven, Miriam 
was found to be slow and dreamy, while Lena was 
bright, active, and a pride to her parents. 

“ Come, Miriam,” her mother would often say; 
“try to put your mind on your work. You’ll 
never get along like Lena. I wish you were not 
so dreamy”; or, “You are so slow, Miriam, why 
don’t you hurry like Lena ; she is a comfort to her 
parents ” ; or — but why enumerate the many con- 
flicts poor Miriam had to encounter. At first the 

105 



io6 


A MODERN ESTHER 


child meekly said, “ I’ll try to be like my cousin, 
mamma,” and she did try; but her mind would 
wander to the woods near her home, where she 
loved to roam, listening to the song of the birds, 
the hum of the insects, or the gurgling of the 
brook; and again that day in school she failed in 
her spelling lesson, and put down the wrong an- 
swer for the sum on her slate. By and by, as the 
season advanced, she resented these attacks, and 
disliked to hear Lena praised, and she secretly 
wished she did not live so near to her cousin, or 
that she had been born a different kind of little 
girl. 

Lena was quite unconscious of her superiority 
at the beginning of the school term, but as she 
heard, through the garden gate, Mrs. Cahin chide 
her daughter, she soon realized that she was the 
model after whom Miriam should pattern; and 
without wanting to, she presumed to suggest, and 
then to dictate, modes of action to the slow, 
dreamy child, which only embittered Miriam the 
more against her cousin and supposed-to-be chum. 

One day, in the course of conversation between 
the two mothers, as they sat together sewing and 
chatting, Lena’s mother said: “ What a pity it is 
that Miriam is so slow in school. I had hoped 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


107 

for great things from her, but the results of her 
first year show which way the wind blows. She 
must be a terrible disappointment to you.’’ 

Now it was well enough for Miriam’s mother to 
find fault with her daughter herself, but she could 



not countenance any criticism from another, even 
though that other was a relative and close friend. 
Words followed. Lena’s mother took a hasty 
leave, and the end of June saw these two intimate 
families “on the outs” with each other and the 
wooden gate replaced between the two gardens. 


io8 


A MODERN ESTHER 


It was the last day of the school term. All the 
girls of Miss Beecher’s select school kissed one 
another adieu for the summer, all except Miriam 
and Lena. But then, “Why should they kiss — 
they, of course, would be together constantly dur- 
ing the long vacation,” so thought their class- 
mates. Not so, however. Each of these two 
went home on different sides of the street and each 
entered her home without so much as a glance 
toward the other. 

Oh, the long, long days of summer! Now that 
school was over, and there was no cause for com- 
parison between their work, these two little girls 
longed for each other, and many a glance was shot, 
between sighs, to the next door house; of course, 
through slats of closed shutters. Sabbath school 
sessions, too, were ended; and because the Cabins 
lived far from synagogue, they spent the warm 
Saturday mornings in silent prayers at home, thus 
avoiding the possibility of meeting at service. 
Miriam’s mother would not confess, even to her 
husband, how she missed Lena’s mother’s com- 
panionship more and more as the days wore on; 
and the same longing filled the heart of Lena’s 
mother. But each was too proud to acknowledge 
it to the other, and September was at hand, and 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


109 


still the wooden gate was tightly closed; aye, even 
locked, and no one seemed to care whether the key 
was lost or not. 

Rosh Hashana dawned cool and clear about the 
middle of the month, and all good Jews hastened 
to the synagogue. The Cabins had seats next to 
each other, and this was their first real meeting 
since the quarrel. As all eyes looked toward the 
rabbi, who stood at the altar, it was not difficult 
for foe to avoid facing foe; but as the rabbi’s clear 
words of admonition rang out to his congregation, 
the Cabins could scarcely help thinking that he was 
addressing himself directly to them. 

“If you have done aught against your neighbor, 
in word or deed, now is the time to make peace. 
Let your hands clasp in warm friendship while 
wishing your enemy a Happy New Year, and let 
your heart seal the amen to the vows of brother- 
hood you utter in this sacred edifice.” 

Was it accident that Lena’s eyes caught Mir- 
iam’s as they rose to receive the benediction? It 
may have been, but the smile of recognition and 
good feeling was spontaneous and hearty. 

The choir was singing the final hymn, when 
Miriam’s mamma dropped her handkerchief. 
Simultaneously she and Lena’s mother stooped to 


no 


A MODERN ESTHER 


pick it up. Their hands clasped, their eyes gazed 
on one another and their lips put the finishing touch 
to a renewed friendship, which on that Rosh 
Hashana was formed, and which on account of 
increased wisdom through experience, lasted for- 
ever. 


OBEDIENCE 



I 

% 


\ 



OBEDIENCE. 


RS. MOSS was escorting her daughter, 
Essie, to her sister’s home, where the 
little miss was to spend the next ten 
days, while papa and mamma took a 
trip to New York to celebrate Rosh Hashana with 
the grandparents. 

“Were it not for school we would take you 
with us ; but you have already missed too much in 
that direction. I hope you will be a little lady 
and obey Aunt Ray as you would me. Can I 
trust you to do what is right? ” 

“Indeed you can, mother; I’ll be very good.” 

After many tender farewells, Essie was left in 
her aunt’s charge, and Mr. and Mrs. Moss de- 
parted for their vacation, expecting to be back 
shortly after Rosh Hoshana. 

Aunt Ray had an only son, Edwin, who was 
Essie’s age, and with whom Essie was quite 
chummy. Naturally, therefore, her grief at be- 
ing separated from her parents was lessened by 
the prospect of living in the same house with him. 

Such fun as they had, romping and playing, 
studying and working together. Aunt Ray was 

8 113 




A MODERN ESTHER 


1 14 

very fond of her sister’s child, and made much of 
the little girl at the risk of spoiling her. Extra 
cookies were baked to be eaten at recess, the jams 
were made especially sweet to satisfy the little lady, 
and the stock of candies seemed inexhaustible. 
One restriction Aunt Ray made, however, namely, 
to avoid possible attacks of indigestion, the chil- 
dren should never help themselves to any of these 
dainties. 

The first days passed quickly and uneventfully. 
Essie spoke much of her mother, tried to keep her 
promises to be good, and dutifully wrote a postal 
card every day, telling of her doings. But the 
day before the beginning of Rosh Hoshana, Sun- 
day, dawned dark and rainy, and the children’s 
out-of-door fun was marred. It was a very long 
day for them, especially as Aunt Ray had been 
called to the bed-side of a sick friend. 

After she had gone out Essie said to Edwin: 
“Let’s write New Year’s letters, Ed. You write 
to your parents and I’ll write to mine.” 

No sooner said than done. Essie’s note was 
full of promises of obedience, good resolutions and 
love. After carefully addressing the letter she 
gave it to Ellen to mail, and then looked about 
for some new occupation. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


115 

“ Dear me, what a poky day I I wish I had 
my big doll,” she complained. “ Say, Ed, can’t 
you suggest something to do?” 

“Let’s go and coax Ellen to tell us a story,” 
he cried, and with a whoop the children bounded 
to the kitchen. Ellen had gone upstairs to dress 
for the afternoon. The disappointed children 
were about to go after her, when in passing 
through the dining room, Essie’s glance fell upon 
a jar of jam, which stood on the sideboard. 

“I’m awfully hungry, are you, Ed?” she 
queried, longingly eying the sweets. 

“ Not so very. When mamma comes home I’ll 
ask her to give us some cake. Come up to Ellen’s 
room,” said the boy, suiting the action to the word. 

Essie heard him run upstairs, but she made no 
attempt to follow. The open jam jar fascinated 
her, and she was seized with a strong desire to 
eat of its contents. 

“Just a little,” whispered the tempter from 
within the jar. 

“Aunt Ray said we were not to help ourselves, 
and she must be obeyed,” thought Essie, who was 
by this time close to the sideboard. 

“ No one would miss a little taste,” urged the 
jam; “and I smell so sweet and you are so 
hungry.” 


ii6 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Everything was so inviting. The spoon-holder 
stood next to the jam, and to put a spoon in and 
to eat a mouthful was the work of a second. 



“Just a little more,” urged the jam, and Essie 
ate another spoonful. It is difficult to say just 
how much she would have devoured, had she not 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


117 

heard Edwin’s call in the hall: “Essie, Essie! 
Where are you?” and bursting into the dining- 
room he said: 

“ Ellen’s coming down now. She is going to 
tell us a true soldier story. Won’t it be fun? 
Her brother is a soldier in Ireland, so she knows 
all about them.” 

His own excitement prevented him from notic- 
ing Essie’s confusion, and he had all the fun of 
the story to himself, as Essie was too busy plan- 
ning how to tell Aunt Ray of her disobedience, to 
listen to a word of what Ellen was saying. 

Shortly before supper. Aunt Ray came home, 
and as was her wont she questioned Ellen about 
the children. 

“ Were they good? Did they have anything to 
eat?” etc.^ etc., to which Ellen replied: 

“ In shure, mum, they were as good as little 
mice, and, och, mum, I forgot to give them the 
slice of cake you left for them.” 

Edwin ran to meet his mother, and gave her a 
wild greeting. Aunt Ray stooped over Essie, 
who was apparently reading a book, and kissed 
her. My, what a sticky kiss it was! Aunt Ray 
surmised the reason, but said nothing, wishing to 
let the child tell her story. On entering the din- 


A MODERN ESTHER 


1 18 

ing-room her suspicions were confirmed by seeing 
the spoon in the jam. After some conversation, 
she said: 

“ Tell me, children, how you spent your after- 
noon? ” 

Essie bgan to stammer, “ It was awfully poky 
at first, and then we came down in the kitchen to 
see Ellen, and then — ” and then if Edwin had not 
interrupted Essie would have confessed her guilt, 
but Edwin hurriedly said : 

“ But Ellen was not in the kitchen, so I fetched 
her down and she told us a dandy story.” 

‘‘ Ellen said she forgot to give you something 
to eat,” said the aunt, looking hard at Essie. 

“ I was so hungry,” began Essie, and was again 
about to tell on herself, when Edwin said : 

“We’ll eat it now instead, mother. The story 
was better than cakes and sugar candy.” 

“Ellen, kindly hand me the jam?” said Aunt 
Ray. Essie was afraid to raise her eyes. 

“If I only had not disobeyed,” the unhappy 
child thought, “ I wish I was home with mamma,” 
and as she thought of her mother her offense grew 
larger, and she was afraid to tell. 

“The jam has grown less,” said Aunt Ray. 
“Were you at it, Edwin?” 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


119 

“ No, mamma; you said we shouldn’t help our- 
selves, and I didn’t.” 

Aunt Ray continued: “Perhaps Fido,” — Essie 
felt relieved — “ but the dog would not use a spoon, 
so that theory is impossible.” 

Essie’s heart sank again. 

“ I guess Ellen was the culprit,” said the aunt, 
with a smile at the servant. 

Essie wanted to say “ I did it, aunt, punish me 
and forgive me,” but her heart was beating so fast 
that she was afraid to trust herself to speak. 

What a pity I Oh, if only she had not dis- 
obeyed. All the fun of the evening was gone. 
She had only one thought, and that was her guilt. 
Every time Ellen spoke a pleasant word to her she 
felt like crying, for had she not allowed the crime 
to rest on the poor maid’s head, when she alone 
was the offender. Her aunt’s kindness cut her 
like a knife, for she did not deserve it. What 
would her own dear parents say if they knew? 
Poor Essie was more unhappy than she had ever 
been in her life. 

Rosh Hoshana eve came and Essie still carried 
her burden in her heart, and with every minute the 
sin seemed to grow larger. She thought of the 
letter she had written to her parents, so full of 


120 


A MODERN ESTHER 


promises and love. The letter was an untruth 
now, for she had disobeyed, and, worse still, she 
was allowing someone else to suffer for her wrong. 

Essie and Edwin accompanied Aunt Ray to the 
synagogue. Edwin was gay and happy, talking 
much of what he intended doing in the coming 
year, but Essie was silent and sad; her future 
looked gloomy. At the supper table she wished 
her uncle a Happy New Year, and big tears filled 
her eyes. Her aunt felt sorry for the little maid. 

“ Shall I help her to tell me the truth? ” she was 
asking herself, when a ring at the door bell di- 
verted her attention, and much surprise was ex- 
pressed by all when Mr. and Mrs. Moss entered 
the dining-room. Mr. Moss explained their un- 
expected and early return by saying : 

“ You see we preferred to spend Rosh Hoshana 
with our little Essie, so here we are.” 

Essie rushed into her mother’s arms, and burst- 
ing into tears she sobbed: 

“ Oh, mother, I do not deserve your love. I 
have been very naughty. I have deceived Aunt 
Ray and done Ellen a great wrong.” 

The mother tried to quiet the child, while Aunt 
Ray said: 

“ Your worst fault, Essie, was that you did not 
confess.” 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


I2I 


“ I tried hard to, but I was afraid.” 

“A naughty child need only fear her own con- 
science. I knew you ate the jam, and so did 
Ellen.” 

“Who told you?” asked the astonished Essie. 

“Your sticky mouth and your tell-tale eyes,” 
laughed Aunt Ray. 

She gladly forgave Essie, as did Ellen, the cook; 
but the child was still tearful and sad when her 
mother leaned over her in her little bed to kiss 
her good-night. 

“A bright and happy New Year, daughter,” 
she said. 

“ Oh, mother, if you forgive me it will be 
bright. This New Year’s Eve has taught me a 
lesson how to be happy.” 

“And that lesson is? ” asked Mrs. Moss. 

“Obedience!” 


WJ 




“_E. 


• V 


H 










.'34 


•» y y 


hT 




* I < 




% 


K\. 


iH 






ri^ 






?. 






* •' ,% . I 


111 




»ij 


I»V 


» I 


.f # 


r# 


< 


' ^ r 


Mi 


i T» , 


i^S 




» 1 




^ 'V. 


i 


'.v 


4' 


'}. 




H.I» 1 




7'4 


.- • 


• .1 * 




ii* 




< :% 






H 




iU ‘ 


h.\ 




■ \' •• 


I -v 




.<1 


i 






WW *: .•' ' N 








» * 






3 r..i^ 

-'f't, 


■'.i‘ 






J- 




U~- 


^ A ^ ^ 

1 I 










-,*■ 




•'■‘i. ' Pi I '*’ 


;>* 


Zl .J 


[Til 


^ ^ ’ti' : 

=‘U.^. .' r ,i:.f 

' *-# 


a 5 ^.! 




* c':- .M 

.j- ’.•' '> y-V 






»'"** '."-I 




i£l 


V 






. .t 


^ *-'• 




. ,. '*3p*. 


' r , 


k> 4 


•#lil 


.# 7i. 




'■» -f- 




,V - m 




V * 


1 r 


• ♦ . 


iff . 


* I 


T> 


1 •„ 






* '^ • ' ^wa. » • ? V k ■*• .•*’T 

*0-4. f f^. i 


« I 




fi . \ 


W. 


’r_ 




w 


V .{?■ 


4 


.' i# - 


^ * ir 








:nk 




* T - m^n 


•f{-r 


i ■ 




v’^ 




L\i. - 






•♦. * 


* * 




^ ..-M 




* .i 'i'A 


-.;j 4 








K} 


•->. tm 


-• *. 1 


tfi 






f 






1>\ f 


4 « 


f -# 




*. > 


I 




k' 4. 




- v 




I 


> ■: ;i® 


’■ € 


.^■1' 


# .. » 


Mil 


kfA 


-C 


fi 




vi: 


»►. 




/ k\ 


:-ii’ 


*511 




iV 




fc<' 






HOME AGAIN 




HOME AGAIN. 





HE persecution and oppression of the 
Jews had been unusually severe in Rus- 
sia that winter, and many a youth bade 
farewell to his home and parents 


to seek liberty and comfort on more hospitable 
foreign shores. Among the first to leave the 
province of R — was Jacob Sabinsky, a boy of 
fourteen, whose proud spirit and daring had led 
him into innumerable quarrels with his Gentile 
neighbors, and sad as his parents were to part 
from him, they felt that his life was in constant 
danger at home, and that in emigration lay the 
only prudent course. 

Much good advice did the anxious father be- 
stow on his son, and many a blessing did the tear- 
ful mother lovingly shower on her first-born, as 
they escorted him to the railway carriage; but no 
need to remind Jacob to keep his religious training 
in mind. Despite his youth, he was a pious Jew; 
having conscientiously imbibed the instructions of 
his parents and the wise old rabbi, who knew the 
Jewish law to the letter. 

Eager as Jacob was to face the new world and 

125 



126 


A MODERN ESTHER 


to work out his fortune, he was sad at leaving his 
dear ones, especially at this time, as the Pesach 
would soon be at hand, and this holy week, with 
its Seder, meant much to him. 

“ My son, shall we ever see you again? ” sobbed 
the mother, as she gave Jacob a final embrace. 

“ If it is God’s will,” manfully replied the boy, 
striving to keep back his tears. “ I mean to come 
back to you with honors.” 

“ I feel that you will be spared to us for many 
Pesachs in the future,” cheerfully spoke the father, 
to which the mother sighed “ Amen.” 

Immediately on the arrival of Jacob in New 
York, he sought some friends of his parents, who 
had left R — a few years before, and with them he 
made his home. His first course was to devote 
himself to the study of the English language. Be- 
ing bright and industrious he readily acquired it, 
and by this means soon secured a position as as- 
sistant shipping clerk in a large clothing house. 

Every detail of his experience in this land of 
promise delighted his parents, who through Jacob’s 
truthful letters, were kept informed of his doings. 

Their letters to him were full of parental coun- 
sel, and many questions did they ask to which the 
boy was glad to be able to answer in the affirma- 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


127 


tive. “ Of course he attended Friday evening 
service.” (His parents feared that working on 
the Sabbath was not to be avoided in America.) 
“Yes, he laid Tephillin every day.” He relig- 
iously ushered in the Sabbath, observed all the 
holy days, and in all his doings he trusted himself 
to the protection of Providence. 

To the boy in his new surroundings, time passed 
very rapidly. The months lengthened to years and 
Jacob ripened into manhood. About this time the 
Spanish-American War broke out, and the call for 
recruits sounded through the land. Jacob argued 
with himself — “ Why should I not serve this 
country? Has it not given me a warm welcome, 
and a cordial invitation to make my home here? 
Have I not met with fairness from its inhabitants, 
and have I not been at liberty to follow my reli- 
gion unmolested? My father, thank God, is do- 
ing well at home, and does not need the money I 
send him, and both he and mother would be proud 
of their son, if he won fame on the battlefield 
fighting for the honor of his adopted country.” 
And thus it happened that Jacob Sabinsky’s name 
was enrolled, and Jacob left friends and position 
to enter the ranks. 

Like many of our soldier boys in the Spanish- 


128 


A MODERN ESTHER 


American War, he rose from private to corporal, 
from corporal to sergeant, from sergeant to — but 
here an accident occurred to our hero, and he was 
carried into the hospital and left there to die. 

As his comrades were leaving him, to rejoin the 
regiment, he murmured his thanks, and sobbed his 
good-byes, and as his life’s blood was ebbing away, 
he spoke of his dear ones in far-away Russia, and 
asked that the news of his death be broken to 
them. 

But Jacob did not die. He was young, strong 
and full of vigor, and the wounds, which seemed 
so fatal, healed. 

The spring of the year was again at hand and 
Pesach was the absorbing topic in the Sabinsky 
household. Letters from Jacob were rare in these 
days. However, the good parents did not com- 
plain; their faith was in God and His ways were 
just. This divine faith helped them to bravely 
receive the note written by Jacob’s friend, telling 
of his heroic life and soldierly death. The epistle 
had been written in the summer, shortly after the 
decisive engagement in which Jacob had received 
his hurt, but it was carried from post to post and 
thus did not reach Russia till the week before 
Pesach. What a gloomy Pesach it would be. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


129 


Their dearly loved eldest son, their pride and their 
boast was dead. They would never see him 
again, never hear his cheerful voice or feel his 
tender embrace! 

The week passed and Pesach eve had come.' 
The Seder table was in readiness, and around the 
festive board sat the Sabinsky family. The father 
tried to steady his voice as he explained tO' the 
younger members the meaning of the Matzoth, the 
roasted egg, the lamb-bone, the bitter herb, and 
the Charoseth, but his eyes filled with tears as 
he thought of the absent son, who never again 
would occupy the vacant chair at the foot of the 
table. The mother was heart-broken, and try as 
she would to hide her feelings, she could not help 
sobbing aloud in her grief. 

Rising from his place, Mr. Sabinsky put his arm 
affectionately about his wife and said, “ Cheer up, 
wife, no tears on Seder night, the ‘ Night of 
Watch.’ Do you not know that God ever keeps 
watch over his people and will never allow Israel 
to be destroyed by its enemies? ” 

At that moment a hasty knock was heard from 
without. Hannah, the youngest, a girl of twelve, 
answered the call and admitted a young man into 
the hall. In an instant the stranger had caught 


9 


130 


A MODERN ESTHER 


the girl in his arms and bestowed a hearty kiss on 
her rosy cheek. 

Her scream brought the family on the scene, 
and for the next few minutes all was confusion and 
joy. The young man hugged and kissed each in 
turn and knelt to receive the blessings of his father. 



“ God has indeed been good to us,” cried the 
thankful mother, as she raised her eyes to heaven. 
“He has delivered Israel from the hands of the 
enemy,” replied the happy father. 

“Amen,” said Jacob. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


131 

“And now, children, to the Seder table!” cried 
the delighted parents. Such a Seder, and such a 
Pesach as they had 1 There never was such 
another, nor did parents ever pray so fervently to 
the God of all, to Israel’s God, for His gracious 
deliverance. 




THE BAND OF MORDECAIS 






THE BAND OF MORDECAIS. 



T was the Saturday before Purim. In 
the Sabbath school the rabbi was relat- 
ing the story of the coming holiday. 
He told the children how this festival 
had been celebrated in olden times, and how even 
now, in orthodox synagogues, the children took an 
active part in the services. 

“To express their contempt for Haman,” the 
rabbi continued, “these children every time Ha- 
man’s name is mentioned during the service stamp 
with their feet, shake little rattles or blow tin 
horns.” 

At the conclusion of the narrative he enlarged 
on the fact that there were still many Hamans 
in existence who were greatly to be feared. He 
said he hoped all the boys in his school would grow 
up like Mordecai, true to their faith; and that the 
girls would all be Esthers, ready to intercede for, 
and help their fellow-creatures. 

School was over and the children, much im- 
pressed with what they had heard, prepared to go 
to their homes. Outside the building stood a 
group of rough boys, who came for the sole pur- 

135 




136 


A MODERN ESTHER 


pose of poking fun at these little “Jew boys” as 
they called them. 

“ There they go, the Sheenies ! ” shouted one at 
the top of his voice. 

“Yes, look at them, look at their noses, the 
Aarons and the Moses I ” said another, at which 
the group laughed heartily. 

“Look! look! there goes little Daniel! Let’s 
make it warm for him. He ought to be used to 
heat by this time,” said the biggest of the roughs, 
and they seized a little pale-faced boy and were 
about to throw him down when the Rabbi ap- 
peared on the scene and dispersed the crowd. 

“ I say, boys,” said one of the Jewish school- 
boys who had heard and seen what had just taken 
place, “ these boys must be direct descendants of 
Haman, for they seem to hate us as much as did 
the Haman in the story we heard this morning. 
Our rabbi said that we could all be Mordecais, 
and I think this is our opportunity to stand up for 
our faith. Let’s stick together and defend our 
rights.” 

Just then they were joined by a little girl who 
came from the opposite corner. 

“ I want to join your society. I want to be an 
Esther,” she said. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


137 


“Pshaw, what can a little girl like you do?” 
said the speaker of the group. 

“ My name is Esther, and I want to be like the 
real Esther in the story. If you let me join I’ll 
tell you what I heard just now. It is important 
for you to know if you’re going to be Mordecais.” 

“ Let her in,” said one of the boys, “ she may be 
of service to us. You know the real Mordecai 
had an Esther.” 

So it was settled. “Now, let’s have your 
secret, Essie.” 

“ Esther, if you please, Mr. Mordecai,” said 
the little girl, drawing herself up with dignity. 
Then she told how, in passing the “bad, rough 
boys,” she heard them say that they would settle 
with Daniel the next day ; that they would not let 
a “ Jew preacher ” frighten them off. 

“ Now’s our time to act, boys,” said one of the 
anti-Hamanites. 

“ But what can we do against such a powerful 
enemy?” said another. 

“Yes, they would wipe us out of existence in a 
jiffy,” said a third. 

“ I wish I was a great big fellow, then I’d show 
them a thing or two,” said the smallest of the 
band. 


A MODERN ESTHER 


13S 


“ ril tell you what, boys — Mordecais, I mean,” 
said Esther with a low bow, “ Let’s go to Frank 
Cleaver, he’s so big and strong, and all the boys 
are afraid of him. We get our fruit and vege- 
tables at his father’s store, and I think he’d help 
us. We can make him our king, just like Ahasue- 
rus in the Bible, and I’ll go to intercede for my 
people.” 

Off walked Esther with the dignity of a queen. 
She found Frank Cleaver in his father’s shop. 
Our heroine poured her tale of grief into his 
kingly ear. Frank knew that Essie’s mamma was 
one of his father’s best customers — and so prom- 
ised to bring down vengeance on the heads that 
meant to harm. 

“ The cowards I They ought to be ashamed to 
want to hurt a little fellow like Daniel: in fact 
they have no right to touch any of you, and I’ll 
tell them so. Go home to your people and tell 
them Frank has spoken.” 

Unlike the story of old, the Hamans were not 
hung, but they were threatened, yes threatened, by 
Frank Cleaver, and in this way. 

He met the boys in the afternoon. 

“ I say, fellows what would you say, if some 
big men would come along and try to knock any 
of you down ? ” 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


139 


Td say he was a bully and ought to be pun- 
ished,” said one. 

“Yes, only a coward would attempt a game of 
that sort,” said another. 



“ Boys and men ought to fight their own set and 
not take a mean advantage of a weaker person,” 
said a third. 


140 


A MODERN ESTHER 


“Well/’ said Frank, “suppose a big boy tried 
to hurt our little Louis there,” pointing to the 
youngest and smallest of the crowd, “ what would 
you do to him? ” 

“ Do! ” said Jim, rolling up his sleeves and get- 
ting ready to illustrate his treatment. “ I’d do 
him up so that he would not attempt it again.” 

“ Well,” said Frank, “ and that’s exactly what 
I am going to do to any of you who attempts to 
touch Daniel or any of the ‘Jew boys.’ I heard 
you tried to hurt little Dan this morning. You are 
cowards to dare such a thing and I warn you now 
to let the Jewish boys alone until they try to harm 
you. 

“Then we’ll never get a chance. They’re so 
peaceful.” 

“ So much the better for you. Now remember 
my words, because I mean to keep my promise,” 
said Frank, and away he walked with the impor- 
tance of a real king. 

This dire threat effectively settled all further 
trouble. 

The band of Mordecais still exists, with Esther 
as their queen. They cling together for their re- 
ligion, and prove themselves worthy the name by 
doing good wheresoever they can. 




'rj-:1..Sl*.i51:i i 
&« 


* . 4 >» I 

- .* . V i ^ 

.Vi - TP** !'■ •■ • • y. ' 

*;;Jrjf^x 1 ! V ‘ ' 


s) 


? -TIlHr i. ^ . . ■ ^. V iTi 

1 ^’ 7 ?S i** r’ ;<;■'*■ '*%r 


■ fir^H , 

^ * J*.' ’ r;, ‘‘/r^;'t 

r . ..* .•^.> .-"Tt « ■tf' r-j^nKM -« - ' i 


I » 




v> 


gt >• 





« « 


;T' tE 


^•i(’ 


^1 




r V / 




,* 1 > 


►Inii %f ,jr * r 



•' ^ c 




r-as^? 




• ♦ 1 


r' 


•> 




• I 


/• 


if 




ifO; ', , ■ "^ 

vl*i(fcW?itx J" 9 ?c'JrCV..s 

•iT' 


f • 



i 


* f 


1 # 

* 



£, 










MOTHER’S BIRTHDAY. 



ANUCCA that year was late in coming 
and to the members of the Solomon 
household it was particularly slow in 
coming. The season was always one 
of rejoicing with them, but this time it had an 
especial interest for each member of the family. 

Mr. Solomon, as the president of the Home for 
Orphans, had arranged a Hanucca celebration, the 
like of which had never before been known in its 
history. Every moment that could be spared 
from his attention to his business was devoted to 
the interests of this institution, and in the press of 
his various duties he quite forgot an occasion in 
his own home which occurred at the same period. 
This occasion was his wife’s birthday anniversary, 
which fell this year on the day before Hanucca. 

Carrie, the oldest child, was at the head of a 
corps of teachers in the Sabbath school, and she, 
too, was busily occupied in the preparations and 
rehearsals of a lengthy program for the Hanucca 
entertainment. Much of the success of this affair 
depended on her, and as she was conscientious in 
all her undertakings, she entered into the spirit of 
H3 




M4 


A MODERN ESTHER 


the coming entertainment with all her energy. 
Had she remembered her mother’s birthday, some 
dainty piece of embroidery would have been 
ready for the happy day; but her zeal in the Sab- 
bath school and its doings had entirely obliterated 
every other thought. Rosa, her youngest sister, 
was at the head of the confirmation class, and had 
been selected by the rabbi to write an original com- 
position on the subject of Hanucca, which was to 
be recited at the children’s service on that holiday. 
After her public school duties were finished, she 
sat at her desk in her bed-room and wrote and 
wrote, and she, too, forgot everything else except- 
ing the subject that engrossed her thoughts. 

Ben, though he was eleven years of age, was the 
baby of the family. He never was expected to 
remember anything. Carrie had many doubts as 
to his ability when she made him the central figure 
in the dialogue, which was to be a feature of her 
entertainment. He was proud of the part he was 
to play, and rehearsed so much that all else 
escaped his memory. 

Thus it was that on the morning of the eve of 
Hanucca, the day before these eventful things were 
to happen, Mrs. Solomon received not one con- 
gratulation nor present. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


45 


The mother’s feelings were hurt. She had 
foreseen the neglect, as no mention had been made 
by any one concerning the approach of her birth- 
day, but she determined to keep silent until supper 
time, and then surprise the family by announcing 
the fact. 

Ben was in high glee as the day advanced. He 
came home from school at noon, and ran to his 
room. “ I will get my clothes ready for to-mor- 
row,” he thought, “ so that I will surely be in time 
to accompany sister to the entertainment. I know 
she will leave early.” 

Ben’s reputation for forgetfulness was owing, 
in a measure, to the fact that he made memoranda 
about things he wanted to remember. For in- 
stance, in order to remember birthdays, he kept a 
small calendar in his bureau drawer, with a pencil 
line drawn through the dates on which the birth- 
days of the various members of the family oc- 
curred. Now, as he turned his drawer topsy- 
turvey in looking for his white necktie, he came 
across this calendar. There was the month of 
December on the top, and a pencil line through the 
third of the month. 

‘‘ Mother’s birthday,” came to him like a flash. 
“And it is to-day, and not one of us has thought 

lO 


146 


A MODERN ESTHER 


of it. What a shame! I know what I will do. 
I’ll go out right now, and buy her a present with 
my week’s allowance. I never forgot Mother’s 
birthday before. It’s all because my mind was so 
full of the part I’m going to play.” 

At this moment his sister Carrie came into the 
room to rehearse his words with him. 

“ I say, Carrie, to-day is mother’s birthday, and 
not a soul has remembered it.” 

Carrie grew red with shame. 

“We have all been so interested with our vari- 
ous schemes that we have forgotten the most im- 
portant event in the year — darling mother’s birth- 
day. It is really too bad. I know she must feel 
hurt; but it is too late now to do anything.” 

“ No, it is’nt,” said Ben, “ I’ve got an idea, if 
you and Rosa will go in with me. Let’s decorate 
the supper table and surprise mother. You know 
‘ all’s well that ends well.’ ” 

They immediately went in search of Rosa, and 
the three arranged to contribute what money they 
had to buy cakes, fruits and flowers for the table, 
and with what was left over a trifle was to be 
bought in each one’s name, and placed on the 
mother’s plate. Carrie was to attend to the pur- 
chasing, and, with Bridget’s help, to fixing the 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


147 


table, while the other two were in school that after- 
noon. 

Ben felt like rushing up to his mother and 
throwing his arms around her and congratulating 
her, as was his wont; but he restrained himself, 
saying : “ It will be all right this evening. ‘ All’s 
well that ends well.’ ” 

Evening came at last, bringing the father home. 
He kissed his wife and children as usual, but there 
was a merry twinkle in his eyes that was not gen- 
erally there when he came home tired out from 
the cares of the day. Ben’s excitement ran high 
as the supper hour drew near. To-morrow’s en- 
tertainment was a minor consideration with him 
now. Every few minutes he ran down to the din- 
ing-room tO' take a peep at the table and each time 
came up with such a broad grin on his face that 
Carrie and Rosa shook their heads warningly at 
him. 

At last the tinkle of the bell was heard. As 
they were descending the stairs, the mother said, 
“You have all been so much interested in your 
entertainments, and in bringing happiness to 
others, that not one of you had time to think of 
me. There has been a birthday in the house all 
day, and not a single one of you knew it.” 


148 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Then Ben ran ahead, and threw open the dining- 
room doors, and waited to see what effect it would 



have on his mother. 

The room was ablaze with lights. In the center 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


149 


of the table stood a large cake, ornamented with 
small candles. “ Mother’s birthday ” was en- 
scrolled in the center of it, and on counting the 
candles, afterwards, it was found that they just 
numbered the years of her age. All sorts of 
goodies and flowers were spread out before Mrs. 
Solom.on’s plate, and on the plate there were three 
small packages, presents from her children. 

“Happy birthday!” shouted Ben, kissing his 
mother. 

“And many, many more,” said Rosa and 
Carrie, following Ben’s example. 

Mr. Solomon cleared his throat. Immediately 
all eyes were turned to him. Putting his hand 
deep down in his pocket, he drew forth a tiny box. 

“ Forgive me, dear Hannah, for forgetting to 
congratulate you this morning. As soon as I 
reached my office I thought of it, and have brought 
you this as a remembrance of the day.” It was a 
handsome pearl pendant. 

The mother’s face beamed as she took her seat 
at the table. “This is a happy ending to a dis- 
appointing day,” she said. 

“ Did’nt I tell you,” cried Ben, “ ’ All’s well that 
ends well.’ ” 

And so it was. 












1 “ ?■ ,' s ^ 

V V 

) ^ fp^ * ^ J*-. > 




^ » 3*j V^ ' 


•' ► i 






#-r 






. A^ m 


»cJi 






I ‘J 




i» 








r^' 


»' 


1 1 












L«^^* ^ * 

■' .-{1? •'ly 

1 

. • ■ • St 

^ - -'■ 

^ , j J* j *1 

•• ^t\ 


i ■ . K 1 


jr < 




^•.nJ 


,v*y ,,--;^'="' 


4 ^ 


-v 






•* I 


10** 


jL 




rJ *- 


ih 


l-^t 




'v*. 


< A li(l « 


«: . t 


?v 


■v.w*. 


ri. 


.♦ .1. 


'•I. 




A'i ’M i 




N' ‘ 


•ii 


' i 


. (- y 




‘'Wt% 




W'-- . ^1 


I* 


^-?5» * 


I*: 


.. 


' 


V r^j 








^ / V . / ^ .• 

^ ♦ ' t 


■f . : 1 4* ,' V'?"’.#' 


t 


'31 




ts; -^S. 


i-i 


f 




, iV' ' 

.■-.•(l.lff 


N i" 


f.: 




►-y 




« / 












r . -. 








)9 


m 


'-0 


15^1 


% ; 


^ *1 


f. 






I, ^f' 


■v 




T 




*s ^ 


JJW'f. 


•. ✓ 




^ ;ff*i ; 

• ' v ■ s* *^’r 

' '** ' ffl '^ ■'■ 

. j' ^ 


1 


Mi 




■ 

9) 


•j r 


**. J, 








i/ 




t-±e^ 


T^A' 






SAM’S AND MIRIAM’S 
SUCCAH 





SAM’S AND MIRIAM’S SUCCAH. 



T was a proud and happy day for Sam 
when his mother took him to the Sab- 
bath school for the first time. He had 
waited eagerly for his eighth birthday 
to come, for that was necessary before his hopes 
of going to the religious school could be realized, 
and now that he was fairly launched on the sea of 
Bible stories and ethics, he shared his knowledge 
with his sister, Miriam, who was only six years old. 

Coming home from his class one day, he said: 
“ Oh, sister, you must hurry up and be eight years 
old. You don’t know what you’re missing. The 
story was great to-day ! ” 

Poor Miriam answered; “I’m trying to make 
the days pass as quickly as possible, but it seems as 
though I would never get old. Tell me the story, 
Sam. What was it about?” 

“ It was about the harvest festival which we 
celebrate this week. Succoth, it is called; and it is 
a holiday of joy and thanksgiving. Thousands 
of years ago,” continued Sam, with much impor- 
tance, “ our forefathers, you know who they were 

153 




154 


A MODERN ESTHER 


— Moses and the rest of them — lived in huts or 
booths, as they are called, in the wilderness.” 

Sam hoped his little sister understood him. He 
had had the big words explained to him in Sabbath 
school that day, but he was in too great a hurry 
to explain them now, and, besides, Miriam was 
“ awful smart.” 

He stopped to collect his scattered thoughts. 

“ What then? ” queried the sister, interested. 

“Then the Jews thought they would remind- 
themselves of this fact every year by building huts, 
either in their homes or in their synagogues, and 
making the holiday bright and pretty by deco- 
rating the booths with all the flowers and fruits of 
the season. The teacher showed us a big picture 
of a Succah, that’s what the hut is called. The 
top and the walls were covered with branches of 
trees, from which hung corn, bananas, apples, red 
peppers, oranges and a lot more goodies, and the 
sides of the tent were covered with flowers.” 

“Tent; did you say tent?” asked Miriam, ex- 
citedly. 

“ I mean booth,” said Sam, “ although it did 
look like a tent.” 

“ I say, Sam, let’s fix up our tent, and surprise 
mamma and papa. Did you say Succoth was on 
Tuesday? ” 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


155 



A MODERN ESTHER 


156 

“ Capital! ” shouted Sam. “ Here in the coun- 
try we will have everything handy. We can begin 
at once; but mind, not a word to papa and 
mamma I ” 

Sam and Miriam lived in a beautiful home in 
the suburb of a large city, and their play-tent in the 
pretty garden at the rear of the house was just the 
thing to arrange as a Succah. The spreading 
trees, with their thick foliage and fruits, were right 
at hand, and in the vegetable patch there was 
plenty to spare for their decorations. Nor was 
their secret likely to be discovered, as papa was 
busy at his office all day, and mamma had her 
hands full with baby and housekeeping. 

The Succoth eve, which was eagerly looked for- 
ward to by all the members of the Moss family, 
came at last. The children had a surprise for 
their parents, and the parents had one for their 
children. 

Mr. Moss came home earlier than usual that 
afternoon, and joining his children in the front 
garden, where they frequently played, he took one 
on each knee and began to tell them the story of 
Succoth. 

“Oh, we know all about that pretty story,” 
they sang out together. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


157 


“That’s so; Sammy goes to Sabbath school,” 
said papa, with a smile, patting his son on the 
head. “ But I know you have never seen a Suc- 
cah, and mamma and I have arranged to take you 
to synagogue this evening to see one.” 

“ Me, too? ” asked Miriam, clapping her hands. 

“Yes, if you promise not to talk there.” 

“ I will promise, papa, but I have seen a Succah, 
and so has Sam,” said the child, eagerly. 

“Have you? Where?” asked Mr. Moss. 

“ Right here. Would you like to see it? ” 

“ I should like to see it, too,” said Mrs. Moss, 
who had joined them. 

Sam took his mother’s arm, Miriam took her 
papa’s hand, and the procession marched to the 
tent. The surprise was complete. Both Mr. and 
Mrs. Moss could not suppress an exclamation of 
wonder and pleasure at the beautiful interior. 

It was in every particular like the picture Sam 
had seen, only much prettier on account of the 
bright colorings of the fruits and flowers. 

Very proud were these two children as they trip- 
ped to the synagogue that evening. Their talk 
was all about their Succah, and the great fun they 
had had making it, and their parents were loud in 
their praise of it. 


158 


A MODERN ESTHER 


As they entered the sacred building, Miriam 
made a firm resolution not to utter a word during 
the services, and she would have kept her word, 
but when the rabbi blessed the fruits and flowers 
which hung around and above him, and said that 
when the festival was over they would be given to 
the poor and sick of the congregation, Miriam 
turned to Sam, and whispered: “Let us do that 
with our’s. I know lots of poor children in 
Fisher’s Hollow who would enjoy the fruits and 
vegetables; and sick Joe and his cousin, poor Ruth, 
would feel all the better for the flowers.” 

Sam, who would not speak on any account, 
nodded his head in approval. 

And so it was arranged. Near the Moss home 
there was quite a settlement of poor people, and 
their children were all invited to visit Sam’s and 
Miriam’s Succah, each one leaving with a bag of 
goodies in his hand, and a grin of thanks on his 
face. 

The flowers were divided among half a dozen 
sick children, who for days had many a happy 
thought about the kind little boy and girl who had 
given them. 

To Sam and Miriam the Succoth festival truly 
meant joy and thanksgiving. Joy for the pleasure 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


159 


of doing and giving, and thanksgiving to God and 
parents for the blessings bestowed on them. Is it 
necessary to say that this was only one of many, 
many happy days? That Succoth was the begin- 
ning of a life of work and charity for Sam and 
Miriam. 


I' ■' 








»' Trt 






• ' t. 




i. L J 












\Y-r^r/^y,,f 




Ui^ 








I- * 


»• • 


'M 




' fi 


ti 


1C 


\\T4 


M 


iV' 


<M 


[t ‘I 






'>k 


iJ^ 


h » 


}'i- 


nl 


•*1 1 




*' 'I > 5 




V- • 




I. 


• I 


. . ff « r 

J .f » 




f n • 


ft 






ikX »' 


Vt/t 






fx -fr 




'•4-» Jl 


•n 




» ‘ i 




f-\\ *>, r. 1 


M 


»i 


V 




^:4 


< *% 


A i 


* « 


tc 


TIVi 


r»’ 


* r 


Vi > 




I 


>i 






tf' 


t> 


» » 


t • w 


<• fi, •'• 


f - 1’ 1 


I ■ I 




T. H i 


^ V 


• ■jA' 


\.l 


I ^ 

,1^ 


• ’ » 


« f 


bjVi 


^4' 


N 


/V 


I » «l * 


A f 


(V^ 


>1?. 






* <T*V 4 


lA 


£; 


«|V ^ 


■f 




M* 


I r, 




r < 








'•' »s 


r* 


> ♦ 






'’’ 's; 


•» 'b 




-I I 


mi- 




:iii 


r^' V 


> t 


4:\ 




Jh V 


»A 


z*i 


'Cl, 




>>T 




Af 


if *1 


>.i 






.*^1 vr 




II ( 


r-^ *.•• 




/Tii 


liJT « 


f -V r 


--^1 


r-»j 




' 1 


0 






''VAi 


Ji . « 


/ ? 


>•4 I 


’/S: 


I)' 


I ’ • 






jr :< ' 




4' 


fr<*i 


<r . 1 








ii 




>31 


iA;f 


I: 






I 

■a 




J' 




vv^ 




-»n I 








r/. 




fJii 


c 


Ai.^' 


ijirll 


*■ ) 












• » 




ti 


’N 


■ 'll >■ 






' i‘.-i 


X 


u 


U r> 




9 

A; 


/*>►■ 




> . ^ 


~33^' 


/ V 


til; 


1;* 


f'"' 


a:4 




f/<. 


I .* 


4 . » 


I ‘ 4 




K* .V 


•t 




V 


vj; 


:W 


'•4 « 


• 






m: 


*. *• 


A 


tii. , •* 


Y'.^i 


i ‘. 




AVf' I 




.A' 




^ lu^iiOd 


v-*Av. 





I 0 







ONE KOL NIDRE NIGHT. 


N appearance little Joseph was not a 
typical child of the Ghetto. His fair, 
pretty face was surrounded by golden 
curls, his eyes were a deep blue and his 
happy boyish nature shed sunshine from morning 
till night, bringing joy to his fond parents and hap- 
piness to all those who came in contact with him. 
Yet he was a typical Ghetto child at heart. His 
father was a chazan, and Joseph loved everything 
Jewish. He loved the Sabbath, he revered the 
holy days, and despite his being only five years of 
age, he knew all the important Hebrew prayers 
and ceremonies by heart, taking special delight in 
assisting his father in any religious service. The 
Sabbath of Sabbaths — Yom Kippur — was at hand, 
and all the inhabitants of this Ghetto in the Rus- 
sian town of S — were leaving their homes and 
wending their way to Schul. Joseph had not felt 
well during the day, and his parents thought it 
advisable for him to sit on the front door step 
during the cool September evening instead of 
spending several hours in the close, crowded syna- 
gogue. The child was sadly disappointed at having 
163 





164 


A MODERN ESTHER 


to forego the pleasure of ushering in the holiest of 
days, and sobbingly he said: “ I love to hear father 
chant the Kol Nidre. Please let me go.” 

But his parents’ wishes were stronger than his, 
and tenderly they kissed him good-bye as they 
piously went their way, leaving Joseph to dream 
alone at the door in front of his home, in fact, 
alone in the street, for old and young attended the 
solemn service. 

What a hush it was that fell over the place. At 
first Joseph said all the prayers he remembered 
and tried to say them in the same order in which 
his father was chanting them in the Schul. As the 
twilight deepened into darkness the child’s pretty 
eyes grew dim; his head gradually drooped and 
drooped, until he slept peacefully — dreaming, per- 
haps, of the Kol Nidre. 

A band of gypsies were passing through the 
town of S — . They had heard of the Jewish sec- 
tion, and of the rich Jews that were said to live 
there. They had also heard that on this night the 
homes of the Jews would be forsaken, and they en- 
tered the Ghetto to help themselves to whatever 
might be conveniently taken. 

The chazan’s house stood prominently at the 
entrance of the principal street, so not unnaturally, 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


165 

the gypsies came face to face with Joseph at the 
very outset. 

“Oh, ho! What have we here?” laughed 
one, his eyebrows lowering over his wicked eyes, 
as he chuckled v/Ith delight. “ Here Is an un- 
looked for treasure.” 

“A large ransom may bring you back to your 
parents, but until then you are ours,” said a second. 

“ Quick, boys. Ransack the house,” shouted 
the captain, “ while we gag this precious bundle.” 

Joseph moved uneasily and mumbled the Kol 
NIdre in his sleep. Suddenly his hands were 
bound in back of him, and a stout bandage was 
tightly pressed over his mouth. He was wide 
awake in an Instant; but, oh, so helpless. His 
revered father I his beloved mother I He tried to 
call, but to no avail, and then the truth dawned 
upon him, and scalding tears blinded his sight. 
The ruffians laughed at the lad’s discomfiture. 

“ Come,” jeered one, “ I’ll give you a ride,” 
and he roughly placed him on his shoulder. 

“ Forward, march 1 ” commanded the captain, 
and they hurried away past all the houses that 
Joseph knew so well. In one dwelt his little play- 
mate Samuel, the merchant’s son; In another lived 
his dear old grandparents. Here he was wont to 


A MODERN ESTHER 


1 66 


visit the Shammash; and here — they had reached 
the synagogue. Joseph’s heart was bursting with 
grief. His captors nudged and poked him, and 


1 



one said: “ My beauty, don’t cry, you may come 
back bye and bye ! ” 

Joseph heard his father’s voice. He was inton- 
ing the impressive melody of the Kol Nidre. The 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


167 


boy shook the tears from his eyes and looked to 
heaven. 

“ Oh God/’ he prayed “ save me from these 
bad men.” But the only answer he received was 
from the man who was carrying him, who said: 
“ Stop your sobbing, you little brat, or I’ll give you 
something to cry about. Your father can send us 
your weight in gold and then we’ll give you back 
to him. Until then you may as well make the 
best of us; for we’ve got you and mean to keep 
you.” 

Even if the boy’s father would have had the 
gold to buy back his son, it would have been use- 
less, as the gypsies were arrested several weeks 
later and relieved of their booty. Joseph fell into 
the hands of a Russian officer, in a distant town, 
who was at once attracted by the beauty of the 
child. The boy was thankful to get away from 
the outlaws. He told the officer his story and 
begged to be taken back to his home. 

“You belong to an outcast tribe. You have 
no home. Henceforth you shall stay with me. 
My wife has often wished for a son, and you shall 
be one to her. Who knows, we may some day 
make a great man of you.” 

Joseph pleaded; he cried; he prayed to be taken 


A MODERN ESTHER 


1 68 

back to the Ghetto in the town of S — , but the 
officer and his wife turned a deaf ear to all his 
arguments, trying by kind actions and endearing 
words to win his heart, and make him forget his 
own people. 

Years passed, and Joseph was growing into 
manhood. The Ghetto life seemed a dream that 
he had once dreamed in his early childhood; but 
his real home was in the great city, and he was the 
adopted son of the respected officer, who had re- 
cently been made the Governor of a large prov- 
ince. His own parents he believed dead. Much 
care had been taken with his school and religious 
training to obliterate the past and instill new 
thoughts and doctrines, until the Hebrew prayers 
were forgotten, the Saturday Sabbath ignored; 
the Sunday kept holy, and the “Our Father” re- 
cited mornings and evenings. His adopted 
mother, who now looked on Joseph as her son, 
was devoted to him, and glowed with pride when 
she first beheld him in his uniform. He was to 
be an officer like his father, in the hope of some 
day becoming Governor too. He was a hand- 
some man; his blue eyes looked frankly into his 
mother’s, as she fondly brushed the golden ring- 
lets from his forehead. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


169 


“ Do you like your soldier boy, mother mine? ” 
he asked. 

She answered him with a kiss. 

He advanced in the ranks and attained honors, 
and the days passed happily for our young hero, 
excepting that every once in a while at inter- 
vals, which as time passed grew farther apart, 
vague memories of a previous life and strange, dif- 
ferent surroundings from the present, caused him 
to fall into periods of sadness and longing, which 
even the solicitous concern of his new parents could 
not drive away. At such times the indistinct recol- 
lection of a strange melody haunted his dreams. 

All went well until the cholera broke out one 
summer in Russia. It was a dreadful time, rich 
and poor alike were stricken, and Joseph was left 
parentless over night. His grief was pitiful to 
see, and as his friends feared for his own health, 
they advised him to travel and try to forget his 
sorrow. 

He went from city to town, from town to 
village, in the hope of seeing new faces, and new 
phases of life which might interest him. 

It was one evening late in September, that he 
entered the town of S — . Aimlessly he wandered 
up one street and down another, his thoughts 


A MODERN ESTHER 


170 

always dwelling on his foster parents and their 
recent death. Suddenly a low murmur stole to his 
ear. The murmur grew to a chant, the chant to a 
song, and Hebrew words filled the air. Joseph 
stood spell-bound. He found himself opposite a 
quaint old building from which the sounds came. 
Somewhere he had seen a “Jew church” (as he 
called it) like that, but his mind was confused. 
Somewhere in the long forgotten past he had heard 
those chants and the voice, too, had a familiar ring. 
Joseph laughed aloud at his folly. He knew now 
why it seemed familiar to him — it was his dream 
of long ago. 

“ Joseph, you’re a fool,” he said aloud as he 
pulled himself together. “ The old codger in the 
ramshackle Jew church is chanting his funeral 
dirge. You are in quest of diversion, so move 
on.” 

But philosophize as he would with himself, he 
felt drawn toward the synagogue, and before he 
knew it he was standing within the walls of the 
building. The men, wearing Tallithim over their 
white shrouds, and little velvet caps on their heads, 
sat in the body of the large room, while the women 
were in the balcony, screened by lattice work, all 
intent on their prayers. Joseph stood transfixed. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


171 

memories of the past, the remote past, crowded 
thick upon him. There was the Sefer Torah with 
the silver ornaments, at the eastern end. The old 
chazan stood on a raised platform near the ark; 
his grand, solemn voice, as Joseph entered, began 
chanting the Kol Nidre. A wave of deep emotion 
swept through Joseph. What was this life awak- 
ening within him out of the dim past? Like a 
revelation, his childhood appeared before him. 
This was the song of his dreams. 

Joseph seemed to know the words. The place 
seemed familiar to him. He sank into a seat in 
the rear of the synagogue and was lost in reverie. 
He saw himself a child again. His darling 
mother was the kind, gentle woman who made the 
home a haven of rest, and a place of comfort and 
study for the husband and father. His father? 
Yes, that was he, the kindly gray-haired man who 
stood in the pulpit, the revered and beloved chazan 
of the congregation. How he longed to throw his 
arms around his neck and cry out: “ Father, I have 
returned!” But the sanctity of the place forbade 
it. Slowly he rose to his feet and staggered out. 
Fortunately the congregation was too intent on the 
prayers to take notice of the young officer who sat 
in the back of the room. He walked past the 


172 


A MODERN ESTHER 


house of the Shammash; he recognized the home 
of his grandparents. “Are they still living?” he 
wondered. Here was where Samuel, the mer- 
chant’s son, dwelt, his playmate of sixteen years 
ago, and here — he entered his father’s house. 
Dear old place, so simple and yet so homelike. 

It seemed like a weary wait, but the Kol Nidre 
service was finally concluded and the chazan and 
his good wife returned to the home which had 
been desolate for so many years. Who was this 
stranger on the threshold ! Be he Jew or Gentile 
he should be welcome ! The chazan motioned the 
visitor to a seat and was about to question him, 
when the boy’s heart burst forth: “Father, don’t 
you know me ? Mother, I am your Joseph ! ” 










I— A HAPPY PURIM 




A HAPPY PURIM. 


(This Purim play is written in two acts. It may be performed 
by children for the amusement of their little friends.) 


CHARACTERS. 


Mrs. Samson, 

Joe Samson, 

Alice Samson, 
May, 

Mollie, 

Jennie, 

Rose, 

Ada, 

Julius, 

Their friends. 


Mrs. Leon, 

Mr. Leon, 

Sammy, 

Rachel, 

Louisa, 

Their children. 


ACT I. 

Scene. — Room in Alice Samson’s home. Mrs. Samson stand- 
ing at rear table cutting garments. Five little girls busy sew- 
ing on flannel petticoats, and chatting merrily. They sit in a 
semi-circle in center front of stage. 


Rose . — I wonder what is keeping Alice so long. 
I know she was not detained at school this after- 
noon. 

Jennie . — Alice detained ! Did any one ever 
hear of such a thing! She was distinguished this 
week and only remained until school was out to 
assist the teacher. 

12 177 


178 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Mother . — I think Alice must have gone to the 
shop to buy some spools of cotton. I heard her 
say that the sewing circle’s supply was running 
very low. 

May . — That is so like Alice; she is always look- 
ing out for the future. I wish I was more like 
her. 

Mollie. — I’ll wager her little petticoat is on the 
fair road to being finished while mine is only be- 
gun. Let’s see (takes Alice’s sewing out of its 
bag and holds up almost finished garment) . Yes ! 
It is just as I thought. Hurrah for Alice I 

A da. — ^Alice ; first in school, first in sewing ; first 
in the hearts of her playmates dear. 

Mother . — I am glad you all have such a good 
opinion of my little girl ; of course, as her mother, I 
must agree with all you say. But to come back to 
this circle, I think you are a merry little band of 
good workers; and I am glad you are sewing for 
charity, as there are many little tots who need the 
warm clothing you are now putting together. 

Alice . — (Running into the room, hat and coat 
awry, quite out of breath pulling a little seven- 
year-old girl after her, who is carrying a basket 
stocked with spools, etc.). See girls, what has 
kept me so long. I saw this child standing at the 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


179 


corner of L street ; her stock is almost as small as 
she, so I though we might do a double charity by 
buying the contents of her basket and giving her 
some warm petticoats. She is so shy that it took 
considerable coaxing on my part to persuade her 
to come with me. Nothing short of a promise of 
a cup of milk and some cake would answer. 

Mother . — She certainly shall have the food; 
first, however, I will take her measure. (Suits 
action to the word.) Now Katherine, I say, 
please come take this child to the nursery and feed 
her well. Baby may have some toys to her liking 
(pushes the child out). 

Alice. — Now, mother what are your plans, I 
know you have at least one ready. 

Mother . — I would suggest that some of you 
quickly finish the garments you are sewing on — 
May’s and Ada’s will just fit the tot. I will 
quickly stitch this woolen frock together. Here, 
Rose you can help me with these sleeves, Molly 
you take the collar, and Jennie make the pocket. 

Alice . — (Who has been counting the spools of 
cotton in the basket and then the money in treas- 
ury box) . Hurrah, girls, our dues will just reach; 
there are five spools of cotton, four pieces of tape, 
and one paper of needles and one of pins, and our 
fifty cents will cover the cost of all. 


i8o 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Mother, — Quick, Alice, sew the buttons on 
your skirt, so you can help with the dress. I hope 
to be able to send the poor little one home by five, 
a cleaner, warmer and happier child. 

Rose . — I wonder where she lives? 

Jennie . — And what her name is? 

May . — ^And if she has any sisters or brothers? 

Molly . — And whether she has to sell things all 
her life, and — ? 

Ada . — Not if I can help it. I say, girls, let’s 
make it our business to find out all we wish to 
know, and if she is really deserving, I know of a 
way to help her and her family. 

Alice. — My, but it sounds grand, girls, to be 
able to really help the poor. I hope we will suc- 
ceed. 

Mother . — I think perhaps the child’s hunger 
being appeased she may not be so shy. I will call 
her up and question her. (Goes out and returns 
at once with tot, who has mouth full of cake and 
is holding big doll in her little arms.) 

(Mrs. Samson seats herself with child on her 
lap, in center of group.) 

Mother . — What is your name, little one? 

Rachel . — Rachel is my name, but mommer calls 
me Ray to save time. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


i8i 


Mother . — Is your mother’s time so valuable? 

Rachel . — Oh, yes’m, she’s kept busy nursing 
pop and the kid. 

Mother . — Is the “ kid ” younger than you? 

Rachel . — Oh, yes! Louisa, she’s five, and I got 
a brother, Sammy, he’s nine. Pop is sick most of 
the time, so Sammy and me tries to support the 
family. 

Alice . — See, Ray, we will buy your spools and 
tape and needles, so here’s your empty basket and 
your money. 

Rachel. — (Clapping her hands.) Mommer 
will be so happy. The money will buy a swell 
dinner. 

May. — This is for you too. (Holds up skirt.) 

Ada. — And this — are you glad? 

Rachel . — Mommer will be glad cause she aint 
got no time to sew pretty things for me, but she 
loves me just the same. 

Rose . — Where do you live, Ray? 

Rachel . — Up the alley off of H — street. 

Jennie . — Don’t you ever go to school? 

Rachel . — Got no time for learning. 

Mother. — Now, run back to the nursery while 
we finish our sewing. (Ray goes out caressing 
doll.) 

All. — Now, Ada, tell us your plan. 


i 82 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Ada, — Let’s give a play. 

Mollie. — Oh, that will be jolly. 

Ada . — A play is the thing, and with the money 
we take in at the door, we can get lots of good 
things for Ray’s family as a Purim surprise. 

May. — That’s a capital idea. I’ll be door- 
tender and take in the money. 

Mother. — Girls, how would you like to make it 
a Purim play? The story of good Esther, of 
noble, sacrificing Mordecai, and King Ahasuerus 
would be just the material for a pretty play. 

All . — ^Will you write it, Mrs. Samson? 

Mother . — There will be little to write, as the 
words of the “ Book of Esther” will do, taken in 
brief. The first act could be a tableau of the 
king choosing Esther from among a group of 
maidens. Of course, you could all be in this 
tableau. 

Alice . — I think Ada ought to be queen, because 
she had the idea of the play. 

All . — So do we. Will you, Ada? 

Ada . — It will be my aim henceforth to be a 
queen among women. 

Mother . — ^The second scene will be Mordecai 
at the gate of the Palace, bewailing the proposed 
fate of the Jews, for the news has gone forth that 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


183 


Haman obtained the King’s consent to have all the 
Jews killed. Esther comes to him and promises 
to plead with the King in behalf of her race. The 
third scene — 

Jennie , — Who will take the men’s parts? I’m 
sorry to say that there is not a single gentleman in 
this whole crowd. 

(Enter Joe Samson and Molly’s brother, 
Julius.) 

Joe. — Howde, Mother? Hello, girls, what’s the 
row ? 

Julius . — What are we up against? Joe, let’s 
scoot ! 

Mother. — Indeed, you remain right here, your 
coming could not be more opportune. We are 
devising a Purim play, and need male characters. 

Joe . — Me in a play, not muchie. 

Alice . — (Runs to him.) You can be King 
Ahasuerus, and — 

Joe. — Who’s the queen? 

Ada (bowing low). — I, so it please your ma- 
jesty. 

Joe . — That alters matters some. I guess for 
such a consideration, I can assume a kingly attitude. 

Julius . — And pray, what am I to be? Not 
Haman, on your life! (shudders). 


84 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Jennie. — I’m afraid we’ll have trouble finding 
a suitable Haman. 

Julius. — Oh, any old sinner will do for that 
part, but I want to be a hero or die. 

Ada . — You may be a hero and die, but in this 
case I will let you live. I will use my queenly 
influence with Joe and bring deliverance to you 
and all your people, — my people, I mean. 

Molly. — Julius, you will look just lovely in 
sackcloth and ashes. How does the character of 
Mordecai suit you? 

Julius . — Next to being king, Mordecai is to my 
taste. I have always admired his character, but 
what must I say and do? 

Alice . — Mother will tend to that part later, but 
who will do for Haman ? 

Joe . — I have it I I owe Louis Cohen a grudge, 
and by making him Haman in the play, I, in my 
royal person, will know what punishment to inflict 
on him. 

Rose . — What has he done so dreadful? 

All. — Yes, tell us. 

Joe . — Not very much, but as Haman he shall 
hang just the same. 

May. — Please, Mrs. Samson, tell us the third 
scene ? 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


185 


Mother , — In the third act, the king and queen 
and Haman are feasting. 

Joe, — Say, Jule, Tm right in it. 

Julius , — So is Louis Cohen. 

Mother . — Esther pleads for the Jews; the king 
is surprised to learn of the trouble in store for his 
Jewish subjects. He asks who dared to even think 
of perpetrating this awful deed. Esther points to 
Haman, who grows white with fear. The king 
then orders that for his punishment he shall be 
put to death in the same manner as he planned 
for his enemies. 

All. — Splendid! Won’t it be fun? 

Ada. — Remember, you will all have me to 
thank for your deliverance. 

Rose . — And Rachel will have us all to thank 
for a Purim dinner, for I think we will sell lots of 
tickets for the play ; don’t you, girls ? 

Jennie . — My father will, I think, print the 
tickets for us. 

Mother . — ^And now to send Rachel home. — I 
fear we have not finished the dress, but one of 
Alice’s from a few years ago will fit well enough 
until this is done. Let us go to the nursery and 
dress her. Joe and Julius can escort her home, 
while we arrange the details of the entertainment. 


A MODERN ESTHER 


1 86 

Next Friday a week is Purim, so we dare not delay. 
Run now and make Ray happy. 

(All go out chatting and laughing.) 

CURTAIN. 

SECOND ACT. 

SCENE /. 

Street Scene. — May, Mollie, Jennie, Rosa, Ada and Alice, in 
winter attire, each with a basket or bundle containing the Purim 
dinner for Ray’s family. A lively discussion of the play follows. 

May, — Ada, you looked every inch a queen, and 
I think all of us sewing circle girls felt very proud 
of you. 

Molly . — You bet we did, and say, did’nt the 
boys do their part well? I could have hugged 
Julius, he made such a pathetic Mordecai. 

Ada . — Mordecai was Esther’s uncle, then Julius 
and I are related by this time, and you, Molly, 
as his sister, must be my aunt. Come and em- 
brace your little niece! (They embrace and 
laugh.) 

Rose . — I think it was awfully good of your 
mother to give us the use of her house, Alice, and 
it was SO' well adapted for the purpose. 

Alice . — Mother is a trump — I mean a brick — I 
mean a darling. And I’ll tell you a secret. (All 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


187 


crowd around her.) She enjoys children’s affairs 
as much as we do. 

Jennie. — Girls, did you see the look Louis 
Cohen, alias Haman, gave Joe when that kingly 
person pronounced the death sentence on him? I 
think Joe must have felt amply revenged for any 
imaginary grudge he owed Louis. 

May . — Joe certainly ruled with a high hand. I 
thought I would shout with laughter when he 
waved his sceptre toward the queen and said: 
“What would my royal spouse? And if it be 
half my kingdom she shall have it! ” 

Molly. — And, Ada, you were just grand when 
you answered: “It is but to invite my lord and 
master to dine with me on the morrow. I would 
that Haman attend his royal person.” 

Ada . — Spare my blushes. Mrs. Samson de- 
serves the praise, as she arranged the whole affair. 

Rose . — ^And now that it is successfully over we 
will all get our reward by seeing the pleasure of 
Ray and her family. Goodness knows, this pack- 
age smells good enough tO' eat. 

Jennie. — Let’s see what the $10 taken in for the 
tickets bought for the family. I have a turkey. 

Alice . — And I the cranberry sauce and pie. 

Ada . — I carry the potatoes and celery. 


A MODERN ESTHER 


1 88 

Molly , — Not forgetting the bread and jelly in 
my box. 

May, — ^Won’t it be jolly to see their surprise. 
I never had so much fun in my life before. 

Rose , — I bring a bottle of wine for the sick 
father. 

Jennie , — And best of all is this purse with a $5 
bill in it. I will place it in the center of the table 
where they will find it. 

Alice, — Now, girls, fall in line and remember 
to say as little as possible while putting the goodies 
on the table, and to disappear as mysteriously as 
we came. All attention ! Shoulder arms! For- 
ward march! (All march off, laughing merrily.) 

SCENE II. 

Characters. — Mr. and Mrs. Leon, Sammy (9 years old), 
Ray (7 years old), Louisa (5 years old). 

A very shabby, bare room. Table in center, couch at one side 
on which reclines a man. Four chairs stand about room. 
Louisa, a child of five, seated on one, trying to keep warm. 
Father on couch groans and sighs. Wife, who is sewing, crosses 
to him and says: 

Mrs. Leon . — Put this shawl around you, so. 
Do you feel warm now, dear husband? 

Mr. Leon . — Thank you, Esther; it feels good, 
but it seems selfish in me to monopolize all the 
warmth. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


189 


Mrs. Leon . — I do not need it. See, I am too 
busy to notice the chilly room. (Shivers as she 
seats herself beside her husband.) 

Louisa (crying). — I am so cold, and hungry, 
too, boo-hoo! 

Mrs. L. — Hush, dear. Sammy will soon re- 
turn with bread, and then we will have a feast. 

Mr. L. — Feast! Oh, Esther, do you know 
what day this is? Your birthday and Purim. 
But there will be no feasting for us — poor and for- 
saken as we are by man and — 

Ray (running into the room) . — See, mommer, I 
have already sold ten cents’ worth this morning. 
Shall I buy bread now ? 

Mrs. L . — Wait for Sammy to come home. — He 
may have had success selling his papers to-day, and 
then we can celebrate Purim in a more fitting man- 
ner. (Sighs.) 

Mr. L. — ^You, my Esther, horn on Purim and 
named after the good queen, should live a more 
comfortable life than this. I shudder to think 
what I have dragged you to. 

Mrs. L . — Sickness and poverty may come to 
all, and if borne nobly they are no disgrace. The 
good God of Israel has never forsaken His chil- 
dren and He will not forsake us. 


190 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Sammy (entering hastily). — Mother, dear, 
good news. I sold out my papers quite early this 
morning. There are the pennies — twenty cents 
for my share, and here are ten cents more for 
carrying some baggage to the station for a gent. 
Now, ain’t that a big pile in one day? 

Mr. L . — You did well my son, and mother and 
I appreciate your efforts. Now, wife, how shall 
we celebrate your birthday? 

Ray . — Is to-day your birthday, Mommer ? Let’s 
have some fun. 

Sammy. — Then, to-day is Purim, too, ain’t it so, 
mamma? I’ll get the party while youse try to be 
cheerful. Good-by. (Goes out.) 

Louisa . — Tell me the story of how you were 
born on Purim, mommer? 

Ray. — Oh, do, I love to hear about Esther. Is 
that why you were called Esther, after the lady in 
the Bible? 

Mrs. L. — Yes, children, I was born on Purim 
day. You know that the story of Purim tells of 
incidents that happened thousands of years ago in 
Persia, where a king, Ahasuerus, reigned over the 
people. 

Louisa . — I don’t like his name. 

Ray. — Won’t you tell us again who Esther was? 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


191 

Mrs. L . — She was a Jewish girl whom the king 
selected from all his subjects to be his wife. 
Esther had been brought up from early child- 
hood by her uncle, Mordecai. 

Louisa . — His name’s a little better than the 
other fellow’s, any way. 

Ray . — Please don’t interrupt mommer. Let her 

go- 

Mrs. L . — Mordecai had on a previous occasion 
saved the life of the king from two of his ser- 
vants who had plotted to kill him. This good act 
was written in a big book, where all the records of 
the court were kept. The king’s prime minister, 
as he was called, was Haman, a very proud man 
with a wicked heart. He wanted all the honors 
for himself, so was very angry when he had to lead 
Mordecai, seated on the king’s horse, through the 
city and cry, “ This is the man the king wishes to 
honor for saving his royal life.” Haman always 
hated the Jews, and this made him hate them 
more, and consequently he went to the king and 
asked leave to put to death a lot of people who 
he said were a nuisance in the kingdom. The 
king, without realizing the awfulness of the deed, 
gave his consent, and the order went forth that on 
a certain day of a certain month all the Jews would 


192 


A MODERN ESTHER 


be put to death. Mordecai then went to Queen 
Esther and cried aloud, his grief in behalf of his 
people was so great. Esther promised to plead 
with the king, which she did so well that all the 
Jews were allowed to live and be happy. Purim 
is the celebration of this deliverance, and is a holi- 
day for thanksgiving and joy. Those who have 
much are supposed to give to their less fortunate 
neighbors, because God gave freedom to their an- 
cestors thousands of years ago. 

Ray . — I don’t see anybody giving anything to 
us. We’re unfortunate, ain’t we? 

Louisa. — Yes, and I’m awful hungry. 

Mrs. L . — Let us pray and perhaps He’ll hear 
our prayer. ( Folds her hands and looks to heaven, 
just as a knock is heard at the door.) 

Ray . — Guess Sammy’s got his arms full of stuff. 
I’ll open. (Runs to the door and admits May, 
Mollie, Ada, Jennie, Rose and Alice, carrying 
baskets and packages.) 

Louisa (hides behind her mother) . — Say, mom- 
mer, who are they? 

Ray (running toward the visitors). — I know 
them, mommer. They are the girls what gave me 
these clothes and money that day. 

Alice. — Yes, we are the same, and we thought 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


193 


we would help you to celebrate Purim by bringing 
a surprise. Fall in line, girls. Ready! Work! 

(All busy themselves setting the table quietly. 
Enter Sammy.) 

Sammy. — My eyes ! Am I dreaming? 
(Pinches himself.) No, I’m awake and by gin- 
ger! this is great. Pop (goes over and shakes 
him), see, popper, what’s happening. Fairies at 
work. (Father sits up, rubbing his eyes.) 

Mr. L. — ^Who are you, girls, and how did you 
find us in this out-of-the way alley ? 

Mrs. L. — God is indeed good to us. He has 
heard my prayers. I thank Him. 

Louisa. — Mommer, what is that thing with 
legs? 

Ray. — That is a — a — a turk — . 

Sammy. — I should call it a bird. 

(Girls filing out, waving hands, crying.) — 
Merry Purim! Merry Purim to all! 

(Family stands around the table speechless for 
a while.) 

Mrs. L. — Come, husband. (Supports him to 
the table). Feast your eyes. Is it not glorious! 

Mr. L. — Yes, Esther, just as you deserve. 

Sammy. — Turkey ! Hurrah ! 

Ray. — Cranberries ! Hurray ! 


194 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Louisa, — Pie ! Hurroo ! 

Mrs, L, (discovers the purse). — Run, Sammy, 
after the girls. They have forgotten this purse. 
(Sammy runs out.) 



Mr, L , — A party fit for a queen, and you are 
she, Esther. 

Louisa , — If they had been dressed in white, Fd 
a-been sure they were fairies. 

Sammy (returning out of breath). — They are 
nowhere in sight. (Hands father the purse.) 



AND OTHER STORIES. 


195 


Mr. L . — (Takes it and looks inside. Takes 
out live dollars and letter. Reads aloud.) 
“ Hearts and hands unite in wishing you a happy 
day. Six Little Workers.” 

Mrs. L . — God bless them. They have brought 
hope to me on this sunshiny Purim day. See, hus- 
band, this wine will give you strength. 

Mr. L . — I feel better already. Good cheer is 
a tonic which goes to the heart. Let us be merry. 

Sammy . — My potatoes and bread will do for 
some other time. This suits me better. (Puts 
aside what he has bought.) 

Mr. L. — Come, children, pull your chairs to 
the table and we will feast. 

Mrs. L. — First, however, we will offer our 
thanks to Him who never forsakes Israel. Chil- 
dren, let us pray. (All fold hands, and look to 
heaven as curtain drops.) 


Curtain. 










f 








SST' 


.J' 


Atrr 








■'i^ 


6^ 




\s? 


ftii'VV • 1 ,* • 




•.<*1 


\r* 


'<t*; 


;1 ..V. 


«i« 




4 




I fV 


m 


tr * 


I'fc- 


.« • 


< 


‘O' 


( 


•»> 


»r- 


f T 

^ *^:- *' W JT 


>v 




i\ 


» t 




* T * 




I ^ • s" 


^JsA: 


Vri 






f-t--' i }< '‘ ^^••' 


p i 




^4 


u 


•f 


f.A; 


IL- 


\i ? 


K < 






\. 








V V 


' I 


i ' ' 


, .ri 


f <1 




1 H 


if 


I . 1 

-v^r 


Tft- 


♦ A 


\ 




»v 


■f 


> • <* 


'f 




t 


,i i 






w • 


<h 


)' ' i 


Kf* 


f 


>■ 


V*/ 








t i 


ih 


'i/ . 






^ . 


^HS •. * i I* *v I S 


• *v 




m 


\ 






.iy y. 


!i I \ 






m 


X'l/' 


d ' ' V* .'' , ■ ., ' .,_ 

j y ■' ^ : t w ■ ' • ^ 

* • ' / •> ‘ 


e: 


o. 


1*1 


I < 


■>, 


•T.V 


r' ^ 


:5j 






i I 


- I 


% 


I. 








■K' 




>\l 


Mi 


TlV 






V»i 




i.:* 






i? 


i< 


■ 






I 


.1 \ — « 


>VV 


I • t 




i\T." «1 


/ »< 




S,i !4 * 




.ll* 


i; 




W 




I. J 


-t 




>ri.^ 








.. 


'D 


^ I 


k ^ I 


*i 


I r 


ii 




A. . 'r. 


:<, 


>T' t / 5 " ' 

(,' » A > ■»' T'i ' 

; 'J* « ■ ? 


!:il 






% 


• (' . V'* 








■Aa. 




3 


k*I’ 


•^'jl' 


.V u 


«l 




»» 




?; 


*•'1 


i 

Vi ■■;. V 


1 .* *v 





y 


xi 


I'W 




t*> 




U 






» 0 i 






t * * 








. V 




>.! ; 










ri 




-y-\r.y 


L ^ * . ■^ » * 1 


w 


imam,/'' ■ 

'll 

l«j ■ ■ / -* " ' ■ J- ,v n . "*i3Hl 

P VinL. . ‘_i -r . ' • j < ' . . .. V . 1 11 ' ft . M 


» 


• > 




A A’ 






7 y ' 








// 




Xi 








\ V.V 


W 








A MERRY HANUCCA. 


Paul, 

CHARACTERS. 

Mrs. Le^vy, 

John, 


Mr. Levy, 

Carl, 


Sarah, 

James, 


Ella, 

Scene: 

ACT I. 

Sol. 


The boys — (John, Carl and James) playing ball. They call 
out the base ball terms, and make runs. When the game is at its 
height, Paul saunters in with his hands in his pockets, whist- 
ling. (Boys are all in winter attire.) Boys stop game and 
gather around him. They form a semi-circle in the center of 
the stage. 

Paul . — I say, boys, how are you going to 
spend the holidays? Won’t it be a jolly long 
week for all of us. I feel like shouting for joy, 
so here goes. (He gives a loud Indian whoop.) 

Carl. — I’m going to have a boss time reading 
as my parents promised me books and books and 
nothing but books this Christmas. 

John . — I like to read better than anything ^ 
else, especially detective stories, but papa said 
times were too bad this year for presents (sighs). 

James . — I have some dandy detective stories 
and you are welcome to them, John. Just now I 

199 


200 


A MODERN ESTHER 


am devouring ‘The Spy’ by Fenimore Cooper. 
Did any of you ever read it? My, but it’s a stun- 
ner! My papa has a big bookcase full of books, 
and I am permitted to take out all the boys’ 
books. 

Carl . — I am going to get a little steam engine 
and as you, John, are somewhat of an engineer I 
wish you would help me work it. All come 
around, chums, and we’ll have some fun. 

Paul . — That reminds me, fellows, that I came 
here to ask you to come Christmas eve to see my 
big tree. I am going to have a lot of mechanical 
toys and mother said I could invite my friends. 
Papa helps me work the toys, and every year we 
have a grand display. Don’t forget to come on 
Christmas eve. I will be on the lookout for you. 

Carl . — My little sister will have a tree, but I 
am too big for such nonsense. By the way, who 
knows where a carpenter lives. I was to order 
a stand for the tree, and sister will cry if it is not 
there on time. 

John . — Girls are big babies anyway. I’m 
mighty glad I’m not a girl. Some day I hope to 
be a soldier and fight for my country. 

James . — Bully for you John — General John, I 
mean. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


201 


Carl . — You can be a soldier but I want a car- 
penter, and pretty quick too. Time is short. 

Paul . — I know where a carpenter lives. He 
does his work well and is quick at it. I would not 
like your sister to be disappointed. The man’s 
name is Levy, and he lives in a little street back 
of our house. 

Carl . — You mean Sol Levy’s father? He’s a 
Jew, — 

John. — Well, what of that? Sol’s in my class, 
and he’s a nice boy. He can’t help that he’s a 
Jew, can he? 

Paul . — For shame boys ! Who are we to sit 
in judgment on others. You can’t get a better 
workman than Mr. Levy. Carl, shall I go with 
you to attend to the ordering of the stand? 

James. — John, walk with me, and I’ll tell you 
all about ‘ The Spy.’ (John and James go off 
arm in arm talking.) 

Carl . — I wonder what the Jews do at Christ- 
mas time. Poor things ; they have no holiday like 
ours, and they get no presents. I’m glad I’m 
what I am. 

Paul . — I know many a Jewish boy, yet I never 
heard one complain. While you talk to Mr. 
Levy, I will ask his children to come and see our 


202 


A MODERN ESTHER 


tree and the mechanical workings. I think they 
will enjoy seeing them. 

Carl. — You’re too good to live, Paul. Come 
along old fellow to your friends, the Levys. I 
wish I was as good as you, but I must confess, I 
am going more out of curiosity to see how these 
people live, than of interest to aid them. I’ll give 
them the job on your recommendation. 

Paul . — You will have no cause to regret it. 
The Levys are poor people, but they are good and 
true to their religion, and we must respect them 
for that. 

Carl. — Whew! Where did you learn your 
fine sermon? 

Paul. — Well, my father is a minister, and he 
teaches me to respect all religions, even if I only 
believe in one. 

Carl . — You are right as usual, and I’ll try to 
profit by your good words. Come, we will go to 
the Levys, and I will see for myself who they are 
and what they are. 


ACT II. 

Scene I. — ^Room — Carpenter’s bench to the left: carpenter at 
work. To the right are seated three children. Sarah, a girl of 
ten in center — Sol aged nine and Ella six on each side of her. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


203 


Sarah. — My, but the store windows look beau- 
tiful now with the big gold balls and silver orna- 
ments. Did you notice them, children, as you 
came home from school to-day? 

Sol . — Did I, well I guess. I wish I could have 
everything In every window. 

Ella . — Me too. I like dollies, and I saw the 
grandest one with a yellow satin dress on. 

Sarah . — If you, Sol, had your choice, what 
would you wish for a Hanucca present? 

Sol . — A sled to be sure. I have always wanted 
one but I never dared ask. They cost so much. 

Sarah . — I would love to have that pretty work- 
box I saw in the shop. I wish mamma would give 
it to me. She always has some surprise for us, 
she Is so kind and good. 

Sol . — Tm afraid we want more than papa can 
afford this year. Work Is scarce you know. 

Sarah . — See how tired papa looks, let’s cheer 
him up. (She runs over and kneels at his side. 
Sol and Ella do the same.) 

Sol . — Stop work a minute, father, and rest 
yourself. 

Ella . — Stop to love your Ella. (Ella hugs 
him.) 

Sarah . — kiss for me too. Now do you feel 
rested ? 


204 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Father . — Rested and comforted children; but 
run to your play as I have this job to finish before 
evening. 



(A knock is heard at the door — Enter Paul and 
Carl.) 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


205 


Paul. — Mr. Levy, this is my chum, Carl Smith. 
He wants to talk to you. 

(They talk in a whisper. Paul crosses to group 
of children and listens to their chat.) 

Sol . — If I had a sled I would take you and 
Ella out for a ride every snowy day; but I know 
its no use wishing for what seems impossible. 

Ella. — I’ll try to be happy with my old doll. 
(Runs and gets an old rag doll.) 

Sarah . — Even if we don’t get anything this 
year we’ll be happy for mother’s and father’s sake. 
We always have such fun on Hanucca lighting 
candles and singing the “ Maoz Zur.” I think it 
is the jolliest time in the whole year. 

Ella . — I wonder whether everybody has as 
good a time as we do ? Come on, children, let’s 
play with out trondel. 

Paul. — Isn’t that a cute top. Let’s see it. 

Sarah . — That is a Hanucca toy. See these He- 
brew letters. This one means “ all.” The letter 
on this side means “ half.” Now turn the trondel 
on the third side and the letter means “ nothing,” 
and the letter on the fourth side means “ to put 
to,” “to add.” 

Sol. — I’ll spin the top and show you how it 
works. 


2o6 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Paul . — It is like a little “ wheel of fortune ” my 
sister owns. Let me try it. 

(Children continue playing with the trondel.) 

Mr. Levy . — Very well, young man, I’ll make 
it according to directions. 

(Takes paper and pencil as Carl dictates.) 

Carl (dictating). — ^The garden is to be three 
feet square, with a low railing around it, and the 
stand for the tree is to be fastened in the center. 
The whole thing is to be painted green, and when 
dry is to be sent at once to 761 Eighth Street. 

Mr. Levy . — You have given me very little 
time. However, I’ll take the job and try to have 
it ready in time so as not to disappoint your sister. 
I would not like my own little ones to be disap- 
pointed. (Looks lovingly towards the group.) 

Carl . — (Putting on his hat.) Come Paul, my 
business is done. Let us go. 

Paul . — (Reluctantly edging away from the 
group with whom he was conversing in low tones. ) 
I’m ready. Good-bye Mr. Levy. Good-bye 
little ones. I hope your Kriss Kringle will be kind 
to you. 

(Exit both.) 

( Children cross to father and gather around his 
knee.) 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


207 


Ella, — Does he really think we believe in Kriss 
Kringle, papa? 

Papa . — No, Paul knows better. He has a 
good heart and meant no offense. 

Sarah . — We don’t need a Kriss Kringle to be 
kind to us. We have you, dear papa (puts arms 
lovingly around his neck) and darling mamma. 
Our Hanucca lights are dearer to us than a tree 
could ever be, and our festival is a beautiful one. 

Mother . — (Comes to door.) Come children 
wash your faces and hands and make yourselves 
look trim for supper. 

Father . — If I can judge by the smell, the food 
will be good. I have appetite. 

Children (running out and kissing mother as 
they pass her) . — So have I — and I — and I. 

Father. — God bless them. 

Mother. — They are very precious to us. 

Father . — The dear little souls, they never 
dreamed I was listening to their talk about Hanucca 
presents, but I know what they want and I’ll start 
this evening to make the sled for Sol and the work- 
box for Sarah. 

Mother . — Did Ella want nothing? 

Father . — ^The darling I She wants a doll. 

Mother . — She shall have one and I shall dress 


2o8 


A MODERN ESTHER 


it to satisfy the pet. Her old rag baby is a sad 
looking object, indeed; we’ll try to make this 
Hanucca the happiest yet. 

Father . — I agree with Sarah that the holiday 
is beautiful, and I thank God for His goodness 
to us. 

Mother. — ^Amen. Come we will join the little 
ones. 


SCENE II. 

Back parlor in Levy’s house. 

Candles all lit. Next to table on each side is an arm chair 
in which are seated Mr. and Mrs. Levy, in holiday attire. Front 
of stage center, children singing “ Maoz Zur.” Mother rises and 
fetches sled, box and doll from closet; she distributes toys amid 
exclamations of surprise and joy. 


Sol . — (Turning to father.) Papa, this is just 
the loveliest sled I ever saw. Did you make it for 
me? 

Mother . — Yes my son. Papa remained up till 
twelve o’clock several nights working on your sled 
and Sarah’s work-box. 

Sarah . — Thank you ever so much papa. I 
will prize the present so much more because you 
made it. (Kisses him.) 

Ella . — (Running to her mother.) — I know you 
dressed my dolly for me, and it is prettier, oh 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


209 


ever so much prettier than the one in yellow in the 
shop window. I love you both. (Hugs mother 
and doll.) 

Papa . — Now my children gather round my 
chair and I will tell you the story of Hanucca. 

Children (in chorus, clapping hands). — Oh I’m 
so glad, I like to hear it. 

(Bell rings. Mother opens door and admits 
Paul.) 

Paul . — (Standing in doorway, fumbling his hat 
in an embarrassed way.) Please to excuse me. 
I did not know. I came to invite the children to 
my house. I thought they might be lonesome. 
You have no Christmas. 

Mrs. Levy . — But we have a Hanucca, and to- 
night we celebrate our Festival of Lights. 

Paul . — What is Hanucca? 

Papa . — Come join our circle (Mother places 
a chair for Paul. All form a circle around table) 
and you will hear why we celebrate Hanucca. 

Papa . — Listen while I tell my children about 
the holiday. 

Paul . — I shall be very glad to do so. (All 
sit down.) 

Papa . — (Tells story in a loud, clear voice.) 
Many, many years ago, the Jewish people were 


210 


A MODERN ESTHER 


oppressed by the Syrians. The king, Antiochus 
Epiphanes, wished to get rid of the Jews, and he 
thought the quickest and surest way of doing it was 
to attack their religion. He tried to convert the 
Jews, and when this failed, he debased the house 
of worship by having the flesh of swine offered on 
the altar and ordering the Jews to worship heathen 
gods. The Jews rose in rebellion and headed by a 
priest, Mattathias, and his five sons, they marched 
against the Syrians and fought them. Although 
the Jews were few in number compared to the 
enemy, they were strong in their courage and after 
a severe struggle, came off victorious. The first 
thing they did was to clean the temple. It was 
then rededicated amidst great rejoicing. The oil 
used to burn in the lamps over the altar was nearly 
all used up. Only a little bottle was found, con- 
taining as was thought, barely enough to last for 
one night. Through a miracle it burned for a 
whole week. Our festival is to commemorate the 
victory of the Jews over the Syrians, and it is cele- 
brated by burning lights because God caused the 
little quantity of oil to last a week. This is the 
story of our feast of lights. 

Sarah . — Somehow I never tire of hearing it. 

Sol . — I wish I was brave like Mattathias. 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


2 I I 

Sarah . — I am glad that we are free to worship 
as we please. 

(At the end of story mother goes out.) 

Paul . — (Rises, extends hand to Mr. Levy and 
says.) Thank you ever so much for giving me 
the privilege of listening to your story. I see 
your Hanucca is as much to you as our Christmas 
is to us. (Takes his hat.) Dear me, I quite 
forgot that I have a gathering of friends at my 
house. I must hurry home. 

(Mrs. Levy enters with tray on which are nuts, 
apples and cakes.) 

Mrs. Levy . — Stay and have some refreshments 
with us, Paul, this is part of the fun. 

Children (together). — Yes do, Paul. 

Paul . — (Throws cap in air and catches it 
again.) I will stay. I guess the boys can get 
along without me and I am very comfortable where 
I am. I must say I’ve had an enjoyable time. 

Mrs. Levy . — Come children draw your chairs 
up to the table and be merry. 

Sol . — Papa may we first sing a Hanucca song 
for Paul ? 

Paul. — Oh, I wish you would. 

( Bell rings. Sol opens door. Enter Carl, James 
and John.) 


212 


A MODERN ESTHER 


Carl . — Good evening, Sol, is Paul here ? 

John . — We called to spend the evening with 
him. 

James . — ^And he left us to amuse ourselves. 

Paul . — Excuse me, friends, I meant to return 
at once and bring the children with me, but I be- 
came so interested in their Hanucca celebration 
that I forgot all about my own holiday. I will 
go home as soon as I hear their song. 

(John, Carl and James in chorus. May we stay 
and listen?) 

Papa . — Certainly my lads. (Turning to audi- 
ence.) Won’t you join us too? 

(All sing.) 

(At the end of song curtain drops, children 
stand in line in front of the stage.) 


THE END. 



j-fg ga 1910 












































































